the slack daily

Past v. Future

2008-09-06T09:08:36-07:00

Where I was last Saturday night:

Where I'll be this Saturday night:

With more of this, I'm sure:

(Beers courtesy of Brad, the Manager at 8oz.)

Join us tonight for BetheMarriage LIVE! (On Ice) tonight at 8pm PST on Ustream!

THANK YOU!

2008-09-01T12:46:05-07:00

We made it!

Obama/Slack 2008!

2008-08-31T01:19:49-07:00

You have until MIDNIGHT TONIGHT (August 31st) to cast your vote for the slackmistress for the Hot Blogger Calendar! I'm still a few spots out of 12th place, so I need every vote you've got! And please spread the word!

You Like Kittens...Don't You?!

2008-08-30T10:56:47-07:00

Okay, folks, some other bloggers managed to pull in over 200 votes overnight. So I need your help.

VOTE SLACKMISTRESS! (And pass it on!)

Yes, It's a 'Fame' Reference.

2008-08-29T11:12:25-07:00

There are just a few days left to vote for slackmistress & betheboy for the Hot Blogger Calendar, so check out the above PSA and know that a vote for us is a vote for indecency.

Pass it on!

Edited to add: I am holding onto the 12th spot but just barely. Help a girl out!

The Two Most Important Votes You'll Ever Cast...

2008-08-28T11:12:09-07:00

This November, Barack Obama for President of the United States:

This week, the slackmistress for the Hot Blogger Calendar:

(Don't forget betheboy while you're at it!)

Watch this space for our upcoming Hot Blogger Calendar Promo Vlogs!

Did I Marry My Dad?

2008-08-27T12:26:23-07:00

Conversation with SlackDad, after seeing Bad Lieutenant.

SlackDad: You know what was wrong with that movie?

Me: Um, everything?

SlackDad: The nun was hot.

Me: You mean the nun who was raped?

SlackDad: In all my years of Catholic School, I never saw a nun who looked like that!

Conversation with Will, last night:

Me: I lot of people I went to high school with found God.

Will: Are they hot?

Me: Why?

Will: Because if they're hot, it seems like such a waste.

I wondered this morning if I should blog that. And then I thought...What Would The Bloggess Do?

And I know you're not sick of this yet: please vote for me for the Hot Blogger Calendar! And while you're there, you could, y'know, vote for Will, too. Here's another photo of me playing WoW to help convince you:

Pee ess, that's a drill in the background. Perv.

The Nerdiest Thing I've Ever Done.

2008-08-26T10:38:34-07:00

I was an odd kid. Which is the apex of understatement. I could read before I was toilet trained, I carried around a plastic grizzly bear with huge fangs and glowing red eyes that I referred to as my baby, I learned that fuck was an at-home word, not a school word when I declared I wasn't a fuckin' lefty in kindergarten.

The only step further would to have taped a sign to my back that read KICK ME.

Junior high was a blur of a bad perm, getting kicked off of handbell choir (okay, that was slightly awsome), an assignment where we had to write our obituary and I penned she will be mourned by her pets and her plants, an array of embarrassing class rollerskating parties, reading 50+ books during a a semester in Mrs. Bogen's class on a bet, and bullies.

High School was no different, although by then I had pretty much figured out my place and in the social food chain. I left behind volleyball and basketball (all that running) to pursue theatre and speech team. Even normal teenaged activities (like accompanying my friend to buy her first pack of condoms) was tarred with the nerd brush since we insisted on talking in B ritish accents. Of course, we wouldn't have classified ourselves as nerds. We were avant-garde! We we dramatic! We were wordly!

We just, uh, couldn't figure out where the prophylactics were in the local Walgreens.

We were nerds.

If the above wasn't enough, upon the assignment of our first history paper for Mr. Haake's American History AP class ("write on the history of anything!" he told us, so I wrote about the history of sex. No, I didn't write it in a British Accent.) My friend and I came up with the brilliant idea that we were going to write two papers.

Our assigned paper, and;
One of the History of Spam

Any High School Nerd worth their weight in graphic calculators will tell you that the Nerdvana Comedy Hour isn't complete without a tour of Monthy Python's Flying Circus (which was not only on PBS late night, so we set our VCR's and passed around worn, bootlegged tapes) but could also be rented at the local (and wholesome!) Blockbuster, where we'd ask the 17 year olds to rent us David Lynch movies since they actually checked ID. (It was ART! I told a bored cashier who refused to rent to my 16-year-old self. You are keeping me from ART! I also didn't mention I had been watching R-rated movies since I was five because the SlackParents didn't really think a few boobs were a big deal.)

The paper wasn't a page; it wasn't two pages. My friends Amy and Jenna and I wrote a fully-researched and footnoted second history paper.

On Spam.

Of course I'm still a nerd, even if I've been nominated for the Hot Blogger Calendar (have you voted for me? What are you waiting for? I've fallen to number 11, people! Vote!)

I swear to you, I always blog in formalwear.

x-posted to Antisocial Networking!

Out and About.

2008-08-24T22:22:38-07:00

A few items of note:

Thanks to all who stopped by for last night's BetheMarriage LIVE! (On Ice), which will soon be known as "Nina consumes a bottle of wine on camera in two hours but I swear I don't have a problem." I also don't have a hangover. Those Russian genes sure come in handy. Will has the recap here.

Voting has started for the Hot Blogger Calendar! Some people may be above such things, but I am clearly not one of them. Vote for me! Get your friends to vote for me! Buy your dog a laptop and get them to vote for me! Will is also nominated - you can vote for him here. (If the site is down, you can vote here!)

This passage, from The Daily Randi, is pretty much why blogging was invented:

And, thankfully, nobody made me Hold Their Baby. I hate when people ask me, “Do you want to Hold The Baby?” Because I really Don’t, Thank You. But, I can’t say that, because I don’t want to Insult The Baby Passer Offer. So, I say, “Of course! I would Love To Hold Your Baby!” And then they Hand Me The Baby. And then I get stuck Holding it. For Like, Forever. And I find myself wondering, “How Long Do I Have To Hold This Stupid Baby?” I Hate That.

I am in love with another man. I can't help it.

On Dogwalkers & Live Chats.

2008-08-23T12:06:39-07:00

My previous post reminded me of an incident that took place about eight years ago. The year was 2000, and I was living in one of those huge, soulless apartment buildings in Hollywood where all of the units looked exactly the same. Master bedroom with enclosed bathroom on one side and slightly smaller bedroom with adjacent bathroom on the other flanked a shared living room and galley kitchen. This place boasted huge ceilings and beautiful (faux) wood floors, but the fact is that was straight out of Apartments 'r Us.

The reason Older Slackbrother J. and I had elected to live there is that they didn't bat an eye about me owning a three legged pit bull named Peanut.

In fact, the landlord wasn't particularly picky about anyone who lived there, so we had the virtual societal salad of couples and hookers and drug dealers and old people and a ton of strippers. (In fact, a date that once picked me up remarked hey, you live in the stripper building!) Being just around the corner from Sunset Blvd. (not the nice part) we were also around the corner from three or four strip clubs.

In the morning, sans makeup, (and usually sans underwear) I would crawl out of bed, throw on some amalgamation of clothes (or a robe over my PJs), grab my glasses and walk Peanut. On the way to the elevator, I'd usually run into two or three girls returning home from the night shift. They'd coo at the dog, I'd nod politely (it was too early for small talk) and we'd all be on our way.

When I returned home in the evening, I'd repeat the process, except this time I was fully makeup'd and had my contacts in, and my clothes took n a more matching quality since I had worn them to work that day. The same two or three girls would be heading off to work, and I'd greet them in the hallway. They'd coo over Peanut, and we'd be on our way.

...except one evening, when one of the girls stopped me.

You're so sweet, she told me, but your morning dogwalker? She's kind of a bitch. And not exactly cute, if you know what I'm sayin.

I don't have a ---ooohhh.

They looked at me, confused.

I'll talk to her, I promised.

They gave Peanut one last pat and were on their way.

...

And it's that time again...

Join Will & I tonight at 8pm PST on Ustream.tv!