Ladies Ampersand Gentlemen

Untitled (Nonfiction)

2010-05-17T12:14:00.003-05:00

DANNY:
hola
com estas

PATRICK:
Were killing the blog.

DANNY:
murder in the first degree
how are you going to do it?
by fire?
garret( not sure if that's how you spell that)
guiiotine

PATRICK:
Garrotte I think

DANNY:
yes
that sounds rougish enough

PATRICK:
Rougish?
Anyway I wasn't saying that's how we're going to do it. I was just taking a crack at how it's spelled.

DANNY:
ya
roughish
red like
anyway
how are you going to kill it then

PATRICK:
I think I'll just type out this conversation ver batim.

DANNY:
hahahaha

PATRICK:
Seeya.

If One Must Gossip May 13th, year of Our Lord 2010

2010-05-13T12:43:00.004-05:00

My dear sweet goslings,

I am ever so sorry I have abandoned you for so long. You see, Upon the release of David Byrne and Fat Boy Slim's epic "Here Lies Love" I was overcome with such joy that I fell into a delusional state in which I believed I was Imelda Marcos. Friends took me to the a darling little convalescence home outside of Reykjavik which turned out not to be so good for me, as one of the other resters believed himself to be President Ferdinand Marcos. We escaped as the ash rained down on the fjords and boated to Svalbard where we lived happily by exploiting the people of Ny-Ålesund.

One day, a darling washer woman I was berating started to cry. I told her it was disgraceful and she assured me it wasn't because of the vicious lashing I was giving her with my tongue ( and, to be honest, my amazing shoe collection I had accumulated) but was due to the news that Lauren Bacall's twitter account was done by an imposter. The news brought me crashing from my dream-world and into reality where I was not the Rose of Tacloban but a gentle person in a (quite fabulous) gown who was living with a 74 year old Colombian in an over sized military outfit with the worst ear-build up known to man. I forged a raft with my shoes and floated back to the mainland. It's taken me a while to get home and I'm just now catching up on all the choicest morsels I have missed.

However, the trip as given me one gift, and that is the knowledge that it's Eurovision season again! For those unfamiliar with the concept who want to learn more- refer to here. For those already in love with it's saccharine stage-dramatics goodness- I've completed my review of the First Semifinalist group here.

Again my eagles and egrets (sorry, there wasn't alot of fowl out there in Svalbard. I've been spending alot of time bird-watching) I will bring you good gossip shortly.

In the meantime, this song from "Here Lies Love" is, as the kids say, "The miggity miggity mac"

A Gentleman Has Weaknesses

2010-03-27T11:49:00.006-05:00

My name is Patrick. And I am addicted to Bejeweled.

(You'll notice there are no hyperlinks in this post. I don't want to be an enabler.)

It started back in... God, I can't even remember anymore. Years ago. Years and years ago, when I was naive and Facebook had not yet begun to inbreed with itself, a process that left us with that vast and unavoidable clusterf--k of Farmpires, Mobgardens, and haul videos.

When it was new, we were rightfully curious. "Games on Facebook?"

Zuckerberg, you bastard.

Ya know, I actually have favorite and least favorite jewels to break? (Red and orange, respectively.) If I can't maintain a weekly high score of at least half a million points, I chalk it up to a personal failure of commitment. Anything under 200,000 is simply unacceptable.

"124,370? What, were you playing in your sleep?"

Alyssa's hiatus has given me a chance to reflect on my problem. I doubt I'm strong enough to quit all at once, but I have pledged to try other, less fun games, in an effort to gradually diminish the appeal of time-wasting games and the affect they have on my life. I might start with Spider Solitaire.

*A gentleman's recreation should last longer than a minute.

A Lady Gets Lost

2010-03-23T21:45:00.006-05:00

Well, you're welcome everybody. Operation A-Lady-Boycotts-Her-Blog-Till-The-Health-Care-Bill-Is-Passed-Goddammit worked! It's great to be back.

During my time off, I thought a lot about the current plight of today's Lady. I thought about that, and also about the television series LOST, which is in its final thought-provoking season. I thought about those two things (well, mostly the second one) and also a little about the Olympics, and some about energy efficiency, and a whole bunch about inventing the sandwich spread of the future.

I watched YouTube quite a bit. YouTube has become a place for higher learning, especially for ladies. There were video tutorials for women, by women, on makeup application, hair styles, ways to accessorize with a Mobius strip, and rules for a game known as "What Goes in My Purse?"

There's another video genre called the Haul, which features shoppers showing off their purchases to the camera like some correspondence Christmas Morning Club. Many of these are teenage girls displaying their newest cosmetics, skinny jeans, or hair clips. Some unload bags of gluten-free groceries while The Best of The Surfaris plays softly in the background. And then there are The Saddest People in the World.

These kinds of videos raise questions about consumerism as a quest for identity, complicated by the desperate need to share one's acquisitions with others. These Haulers incite comment posts that range from the almost unintelligibly enthusiastic ("great haul at sixxiz...love the glimps at the mini.!!!") to those with more technical inquiries ("what was that noise at 7:10?") to the all-out naysayers ("haaaaatezzz it. her daddy probz bought her all that shizzzz and she cant evn get it on her face rite.")

I must say, I am excited about the possibilities this new genre creates. I'm already planning my first Hauler video, which I'll film as soon as this new health care plan is implemented and I can go to the doctor again. I'm thinking I'll play a little soft CCR while proudly showing off all my brand new prescriptions and brand name antibiotics. I feel sick with anticipation just thinking about it.

*A lady encourages you to express your thoughts on healthcare reform through a little of that old 5-7-5. It's been awhile since we did that around here.

If One Must Gossip 1/13/2010

2010-01-12T23:03:00.009-06:00

Oh sweet, innocent Patch. It's adorable that you think I haven't written a novelized version of Ryan O'Neil's life. the manuscript is currently 4,045 pages and used as the bed frame for the daybed in the library of my home in Cape Elizabeth, Maine. I feel it really adds a touch of class. the decor is slightly shabby-chic, but I find it's labyrinthine- bad Kafka dream feel somewhat comforting. I've attached a photo so all you wonderful people who haven't been able to visit my 4rth summer home, which is essentially a replica of the Fletcher House of Cabot Cove.

Dear friends, the holidays have passed, and this gentleman had a great season. a season full of laughs, love, and bonding moments, Such as at an office party where a gentleman certainly did not slap his boss, deep throat the dessert to show his skill, put a cigarette out on his wrist, or lick any fellow co-workers. After gaining approximately 25 pounds from stuffing, It is time for this blogger to take the pounds off, mainly by spilling all the gossip that has built up over December. The holiday season always causes quite a mess of gossip, as stories get tossed willy-nilly about like tinsel in favor of more superfluous stories of where celebrities celebrate. This gentleman has done his best to bring you yet again the most delectable morsels that without his discerning eye would most likely not have been brought to your attention, as they do not involve young rich white people who die due to an inability to behave like a human being and their gnomish compatriots.

Gossip that broke very recently, which I'll admit may be more of Scott's "beat" than mine, is that the Spiderman franchise has decided to reboot, meaning that master of hilarror ( that's hilarious-horror) Sam Raimi will no longer be involved with the production, along with the replacement of all the major cast. While most splits between talent and production company are ugly (See: debacle of NBC's nighttime line-up AKA The Crying of NBC back lot 49) This will probably be in the best interests of all the involved parties. Tobey Maguire, who was far too old for the role of barely post-pubescent Peter Parker, is again trying to squeeze out an Oscar nominating performance in the remake "Brothers"with the help of his best gentlefriend forever Leonardo DiCaprio. Sam Raimi will be able to return to genuinely brilliant projects like Drag Me To Hell, and the world will finally be finished with the rotting flesh-corpse that was the remaining dregs of Kirsten Dunst's acting career. I personally nominate Haley Joel Osmont to take over the role, as he does not appear to have much going on, is around the right age, and has not grown since he was 12 (This gentleman was able to glimpse him at an exclusive underground bar in the East Village and upon first glimpse of Mr. Osmont thought someone had accidentally let a child in.)

In related news- The above paragraph is the gossip equivalent of a Turducken.

George Michael, who has never been one to be polite, was recently interviewed about his preference for the finer things in life, if your life happens to be that of a pre-AIDS male bath-house owner. When asked about his repeated abuse of narcotics and his habit for getting caught soliciting sexual encounters from strangers in parks, Mr. Michaels quite unabashedly decided that it was the right time to say that he doesn't really care, and that he's going to keep doing what he's doing, even if it means strangers in bushes on Hampstead Heath. He continues on to complain that Elton John, who's love of staging EVERY... SINGLE... POSSIBLE intervention he can, needs to take note and leave him alone. Personally, dear friends, I believe that in an effort to replace his addictions to drugs and bulimia, poor Elton may have become addicted to interventions. the only thing that could possible solve this would be an Intervention Intervention

Like sands through the hour glass as someone throws said hourglass at the wall in a drug fueled rage, So is the Courtney Love moments of our lives. Recently, Ms. Love suffered the public misfortune of having her daughter, the previously mentioned and revered Francis Bean, file court orders to change custody from her mother to her grandmother. Word around the tea-room circuit has it that by losing the custody, Ms Love's mishandling of her daughters funds is going to come to very ugly light. Perhaps something overhead and fluorescent. that's the quality of light we are whispering of her. Courtney is no Blanche Dubois though, and instead of shrinking away she almost immediately took to the Internet to lambast her daughter publicly, because if there's one thing that turns public opinion in your favor, it's screaming terrible things about your child to the world. Ms Love is rumored to be training for her upcoming life-long feud with Master Celebrity Mother Candy Spelling ( a gentleman or lady took the side of Tori Spelling, as getting divorced isn't such a big deal, Candy Spelling as a mother deserved a gentle mocking, and in general support for valiant struggle with Horseface disease).

Longtime beaus Susan Sarandon and Tim Robbins have brought a quiet end to their relationship, keeping the news well hidden for almost half a year before the news was leaked. The dissolution is a loss to ladies everywhere in relationships to submissive men who insufferably push their fringe political view-points on anyone who has the misfortune of attempting to get an appetizer at the same time, as they no longer have a standing model to legitimize their lifestyle choice. Lady Hawn, still strong in her non-marriage relationship to Kurt Russell, wears far to much fur to be embarrassed by leftists without a can of red paint. Ms. Saradon is said to be pulling a Mrs. Robinson, and quite scandalously making time with her 31 year old business partner whom she recently opened, of all things, a Ping Pong bar with. While the young man in question isn't exactly what one would call a looker, We wish Ms Sarandon the best in her new relationship as she finally realizes she is much better than Tim Robbins in every way possible

Lastly, in some "where are they now" news, Ron Livingston, star of "Office Space" and not much else, has apparently had a terrible 2009. Someone out in the Internet has decided to wage a personal vendetta on Mr Livingston, claiming that he is a homosexual and dating a man named Lee Dennison. While this is not an abnormal situation for actors to go though, this particular individual has made it a personal quest to make all online information reflect his claim, retooling Mr. Livingston's Wikipedia page the moment the information is changed to reflect Mr. Livingston's hetero-married status. Further review into this story revealed that in fact, the person behind the attack is the person behind Lee Dennison, who is a fake Internet personality.

Now, gentle readers, it is time for me to say adieu, while this has certainly been a pleasant time relating all the news to you, I must go now to try out a new exercise routine that I'm currently attempting to develop, which involves watching Precious, looking down to see your outfit and weight resembles that of her or her mother, and running terrified to the nearest gym until you can see your ribcage. I meet on the 28th with Lee Daniels and Oprah to develop the book guide. As a parting gift for the decade that was, I will leave you with, via the Village Voice, the 50 worst songs of the 00's

A Gentleman Knows What's Best for Everybody

2010-01-05T19:21:00.003-06:00

Hello! Welcome back to Ladies Ampersand Gentlemen, for what promises to be another rambling and inconsequential year of etiquette and movie reviews.

I'd like to take a second to thank Alyssa for that heartwarming Christmas letter. In a lot of ways, Pinch is the matriarch of the L&G family--always nurturing, always supportive, at times almost doting. These endearing qualities were certainly on display in her summary of 2009, and I am reminded again how lucky we all are to have her.

Enough of that.

Alyssa's strengths are kindness and eloquence. These qualities make her a natural-born author of a yearly Christmas newsletter. My strengths include a limitless capacity for cold-hearted judgment, and that makes me good at New Year's Resolutions. Naturally, it would be a waste of my talents to only set goals for myself, so I've taken it upon myself to tell all of my friends at L&G how to make the most out of their 2010:

Let's start with Scott. Scott has been writing for us for eight months. In that time, he has written two movie reviews and, as far as I can tell from his writing, he's only seen one movie.
Scott's resolution: Check your internet connection.

Danny. Sweet, sweet Danny. Picking up slack-and-a-half for Scott, your gossip column has set a Guinness World Record for "longest post in bright green font".
Danny's resolution: Just write a damn novel already. Preferably a comedy of manners about a fictionalized version of Ryan O'Neil.

Randal was our unsung hero of 2009. He started in early June as an intern, but quickly made himself useful as a ghost-writer. A few lawsuits in September. Now he's a "creative consultant"!
Randal's resolution: Be less litigious, maybe?

Helen was and is a complete disappointment. She is a terrible writer and has no administrative skills whatsoever. We plan on firing her whenever it will do the most psychological damage. Maybe on her birthday, or right before Valentine's.
Helen's resolution: Get sober.

Now for Alyssa. Pinch. Pinchface.

Alyssa is about as close to perfect as anyone has a right to be. Perfect blogger. Perfect lady. Perfect friend. I believe my comments at the beginning of this post adequately describe her, so right now I'll just say this: if you have any flaw, it is your loyalty to those that would keep you for themselves. Don't let us tie you down here, Pinch. Don't spend the better part of your twenties blogging about Apple products and outdated political gags. You are destined for bigger and better things. Don't be afraid to fly.
Alyssa's resolution: Get sober.

*A gentleman is hopeful for the future.

A Lady Composes A Holiday Letter

2009-12-12T17:52:00.003-06:00

Dear Friends, Family and Followers of L&G:

Season’s Greetings to you and yours! It’s December and you know what that means—the season of joy, good will, increased rates of canine hypothermia, and the Holiday Brag Letter is upon us like a weighty drift of snow blown suddenly from a precariously-sagging rooftop. As it is a lady’s duty to keep up with her correspondence and to carry on the delicate art of letter writing, allow me to fill you in on the past year as experienced by the co-creators of this blog.

Our very own Patrick (or “Patch,” as we like to refer to him around these parts), who turned 24 this year, has been engaged in some truly wonderful and experimental work in the field of Web-Based Data Seeking. As a rising star in Informational Recodification Systems, he has recently opened his own In-Home office and will continue to oversee this promising new branch of the company. As a Christmas bonus, Patrick expects to receive an affectionate cuff to the shoulder of his choice, along with a gift certificate to a local office supplies retailer (company’s choice.)

Patch also reconnected with his Southern roots this summer, embarking on a mission trip to the lower states in which he spread the word about the importance of maintaining proper gentlemanly behavior. I believe his trip was a great success, working to further erase that latitudinal line of prejudice which continues to separate the North from the Sweet Tea States.

We are also very proud of the clever, witty writing Patrick has produced this past week on our neighboring blog, The Daily Premise.

As for me, I would like to boast a minimum number of sinus infections this year: Only two majors and one minor! I also took a trip this year, but with far less success at bridging cultures than my gentleman counterpart. I did, however, manage to make a study of the art of the Asian music video, which will surely come in handy further along on my career path.

Speaking of careers, 2009 was a rough year for getting them going (much like Uncle Carlyle’s temperamental pulmonary valve). But that’s okay, because I continue to hold out hope that one day I will find a way to make a living from yelling and throwing objects at the television set every time Vince Vaughn’s face makes an appearance.

We’d also like to thank our contributing writers, Danny and Scott, for all their hard work and enlightening elucidations on the finer points of genteel living. You guys are champs.

Randal, Helen, and the rest of our ghosters—you all should really start showing up more often. I mean, I don’t want to exploit your illegal statuses or anything, but just keep in mind that long boat-ride back home next time you think about calling in with “swine flu.” Seriously, Randal, what a sorry excuse for an excuse that was.

Well, that about wraps up our year. From everyone here at L&G, we’d like to wish you the warmest of holiday seasons, the sweetest of New Years, and the highest of scores on your yearly vision tests.

*A lady regrets that she was too late to start this site herself. (A lady also highly recommends “Poor Grandma!” and “Pls Kill Me Thx” for starters.)

A Gentleman Never "Sexts"

2009-12-05T15:05:00.005-06:00

I googled the phrase "bubblegum journalism" to see if I could pull up some agreed-upon definition. No such definition exits, and yet I think you all know what I mean.

Non-newsworthy news is like the Hydra, or kudzu, or Palin--cutting at it only seems to make it stronger. The infuriating beauty of the Tiger Woods Saga is that you can't complain about it without turning into another person who talks about it.

So rather than simply (and vainly, and counter-productively) expressing my displeasure, I would like to be pro-active and offer a simple idea that, just maybe, could serve as a needed first step in the struggle against bubblegum journalism.

Richard Heene. Tiger Woods. Tareq Salahi. One baseball bat.

And Skip Gates is the ref. Whichever man walks away gets a reality show contract with VH1 for 12 half-hour episodes. The show will air at 11:30pm, and will become a kind of nicotine patch for a country with a crippling addiction to other peoples' inconsequential drama.

*Should he ever betray himself in writing as a complete and hopeless hypocrite, a gentleman simply smiles and shrugs, knowing that no media is immortal and, like all his other faults, his hypocrisy will gently be washed away by the sweet, sweet flow of time.

Double-Classy Film Review: New Moon

2009-12-01T10:35:00.002-06:00

New Moon is awesome. What a fucking movie. I'm not going to say "Oscar", but I'm sure as heckfire going to think it. Not that I've seen it, but this one's cinematic gold and Precious better watch her eponymous back.

I mean I haven't watched a second of this film and I'm ready to show it to my kids. When my teenage daughter gets into a motorcycle accident in order to see an adrenaline induced hallucination of the man who abandoned her, I'll be able to say, "It's cool, sweetie--Daddy understands. He's seen New Moon. He's down." I'll also be naming my first born Jacob.

For those of you who have been living under a particularly lame-ass rock, New Moon revolves around a troubled young woman's torrid love affair with a diamond. The diamond goes away even though the troubled young woman "can't live without him." While he's gone, she meets a gay pirate who "can't live without her." Gay pirate battles diamond. Diamond pouts into the sunset. It's a winner.

I know what Alyssa is thinking. Alyssa is thinking "Scott, I saw New Moon eight times this morning and that's not what happens." Well, Alyssa, I DIDN'T see New Moon and I KNOW I just wrote the synopsis of a lifetime! Admit it: You saw New Moon five times and went to The Blind Side when you got bored. Sandra Bullock, Alyssa? SANDRA BULLOCK? Dakota Fanning is not pleased.

Robert Pattinson continues to remind me that the true measure of an actor is the "Fuck You" factor of his bedhead. New Moon demands much of him, but his hair is up to the task and pissed about it. If Kristen Stewart wasn't so cute, I'd go so far as to say she's a legitimate talent who should know better. But she's adorable, so THAT'S bull-crap. Taylor Lautner's got nipples.

Here's the bottom line: If you don't like New Moon, you probably have sex so there's no hope for you anyway. When I wasn't watching this movie, I frequently found tears of life-affirming joy streaming down my face. Too many films cruelly suggest that "co-dependency" and "depression" are "bad things". New Moon reminds us that self-sufficiency is for virgins and prudes and if you haven't attempted suicide in the name of someone you love you need to get over yourself and grow up. Life's short, you know?

Along with Tyler Perry's I Can Do Bad All By Myself, Hotel For Dogs and indie tearjerker Bride Wars, New Moon is one of the finest movies I haven't seen this year.

A Lady Always RSVPs

2009-11-28T14:54:00.008-06:00

You're absolutely right, Patch. If there's anything that embodies the American dream of freedom and upward mobility, it's an oversized animal-shaped sac filled with helium and outfitted with tire-sized googly eyes.

Speaking of being right, I'd like to point out that someone has again stolen one of my ideas. Remember how I thought it would probably be fine if we just went to the inauguration without an invitation? Well, we should have just gone! Apparently the White House has stopped being the exclusive Members Only tree house of the national neighborhood, and I intend to take full advantage of this new open door policy.

This really is great news, since I've been thinking that maybe this year I could go visit Santa at Macy's and then head straight down to the president's house to tell him what I want for Christmas. You see, I'm conducting an experiment to see which of these esteemed gentlemen is better at keeping his promises.

My list is pretty short this year. Here, take a look:

1) A little turtle

2) Some turtle food

3) Miniature fedora for my turtle to wear when I take him out for walks on the fire escape

4) Health care

5) A teeny-tiny pet turtle for my turtle to play with while I'm having alone time on the fire escape

There. Not much to ask for, right? So maybe I'll just send a quick RSVP email over to the Obama household, for courtesy's sake, and then hop on the District-bound Chinatown bus to deliver a copy of my Christmas list. You know, I guess I don't really need to go see Santa at all this year. I mean, Macy's is always so crowded and I get all nervous standing in line and then by the time it's my turn I've twisted my sweaty little list into such a mangled bunch that Santa can't read it anyway. Maybe I'll just text him this year.

*A lady RSVPs YES! to the following events that she has yet to receive an invitation to attend: Bill Murray's 60th birthday party, your close-friends-and-family-only exotic destination wedding, anybody's birthday party.

A Gentleman is Thankful for Freedom and Pokemon

2009-11-27T17:01:00.022-06:00

EDIT: Apparently some of the pictures I uploaded gave our blog a blog-ache and messed up our site's pleasing aesthetic. I've taken away the pictures and instead included descriptions of each. For this and other disappointments, check out http://www.agentlemandoesntmetablog.com, my blog about blogging.

This year, 45 million viewers watched the Macy's Thanksgiving Day Parade.

Another way of putting that is 263 million Americans didn't watch the Macy's Thanksgiving Day Parade. Why not, you ask? Perhaps to some, the parade represents a nationwide obsession with consumer products and pop culture. Maybe some people just can't handle Al Roker on a holiday, I don't know. What I do know is this: the Macy's Parade is more than an American Tradition.

It's America.

So, in the interest of proving my point, allow me to present you with a few pictures from yesterday's event, along with the reasons why they exemplify our finest qualities as a nation.

***

PICTURE OF SPIDER-MAN PARADE BALLOON

Americans are heroes.

PICTURE OF ENERGIZER BUNNY PARADE BALLOON

Americans are simultaneously industrious and adorable. Plus, we look great in shades. Americans are John Belushi in The Blues Brothers.

PICTURE OF GARFIELD THE CAT PARADE BALLOON PARTIALLY OBSCURED BY A BUILDING

Yes. Okay. Sometimes we can be a little lazy. A little overfed. I understand we have a reputation for that. But we aren't proud of it. We try to hide it. It's not like we celebrate our eating habits, for goodness sake.

PICTURE OF RONALD MCDONALD PARADE BALLOON

Oh right. Well played.

PICTURE OF PIKACHU PARADE BALLOON

Americans love Japanese shit.

PICTURE OF HELLO KITTY PARADE BALLOON

Americans really love Japanese shit.

PICTURE OF BUZZ LIGHTYEAR PARADE BALLOON

Now we're talking. Buzz "The American Spirit" Lightyear represents ingenuity and drive--an undiscouragable certainty of purpose.

PICTURE OF SPONGEBOB SQUAREPANTS BALLOON

Spongebob Squarepants represents pants on a sponge.

***

Now, I can already hear the criticisms. "Patrick, do we really need to celebrate our dependence on Energizer batteries?" "Is Spider-Man flashing a gang-sign?" "Isn't, 'undiscouragable certainty' redundant?" Fine. You want to know what the Thanksgiving Parade really is? It's a test of cynicism. Cynicism. Because if you can't handle a thirty-five foot Hello Kitty, the next four weeks are not going to be kind to you.

Happy Black Friday.

*A gentleman is never too old to appreciate balloons.

If one Must Gossip 10/22/09

2009-11-22T00:32:00.012-06:00

Oh, why hello there, I didn't hear you come in. Nonsense, don't let my manner of dress fool you, now would be an excellent time for gossip. Please, please come and join me by the fire. Would you like some tea? wine? a snuggie? Well, suit yourself but we're in for a long batch of gossip. I'll be enjoying this wonderful bottle of Olivia Newton John wine while we talk, feel free to grab a glass if the spirit taxes you. I don't know what it is about the Australians that makes them such good vintners of cheap Shiraz but may they never stop. Are you sure you're comfortable? There's a leopard snuggie on the divan if you would like? Okay, let's get started.

Ms Lady Gaga was highly visible in the last month as she made the rounds to society functions to promote the re-release of her CD "Fame Monster" which will contain new tracks. The Lady, known for her outrageous outfits, wore something so spectacularly horrendous that it caused one of the paparazzi to have a heart attack, which he died from. No word on weather the Fame Monster herself was satisfied with the kill or requires more sacrifice. When the video did come out, it proved to be in the same spirit of her previous "faux artistry to confuse the masses while wearing uncomfortable and weird outfits (the first reader with the respective steel genitalia to rock a full length polar bear robe has my undying affection)." The video was important for two reason though; A. It shows just how culturally up to date Ms Gaga is as the first two minutes feature choreography and outfits obviously inspired by Max from Where the Wild Things Are and B, it shows that when she takes all the unnecessary make up and accessories off her face she is actually pretty, which is always a useful thing for a lady to be.

Elsewhere, two paparazzi got into a fight while attempting to muscle each other out of the way in order to obtain the best shot of Reese Witherspoon. She called the Los Angeles Police Department and gave a full report, mentioning that she was happy to cooperate in their investigation in the future if need be. Now while that is nice, Ms Witherspoon truly gained status of Master Lady with his move as it not only puts her in an extremely positive light but also allows her to make a strike against the paparazzi in general, who have been an enemy of hers for a long time, as they are to most Hollywood mothers. The real question is why on earth are these two paparazzi fighting over a shot of Reese Witherspoon leaving the gym? She has not had a hit movie since 2005's Walk the Line and frankly, her life's best work seems to be breaking my heart by taking the current thoughtful heart-throb of the moment of the market ( see- Ryan Phillippe and Jake Gyllenhaal).

Happy news in Diva-land. Mariah Carey, who has been caught in a storm of spandex and awkward sexuality ever since she was let up from under the thumb of ex-husband, ex-manager, and all around ex Tony Motola. During this time, Ms. Carey- while still releasing decent music- lost a good part of her range. Ms. Carey is now back to doing what she does best, singing covers of popular 80s songs in form fitting black outfits with curly hair while backed up by larger black women shipped in from Harlem ( see exhibit A.) This time it's with Foreigner's "I Wanna Know What Love Is" and towards the end she even brings the whistle register back ( although it does not show her hitting the note). Queen Diva Aretha Franklin is back to her old tricks again, specifically making everyone suffer due to her lifelong hatred of central air, making Madison Square Garden turn off the air conditioning for her performance hours before she even entered the building.

In massive news, Oprah has announced that next year will be the last year of her Oprah Winfrey Show. The news was shocking to every group of American, from housewife to Media Mogul. Words of the possible end of an era had been whispered for a while since as the rumor that Ms Winfrey would loose out on her deal with her partners at her brand new venture, a cable channel
with her name as the headliner, if she didn't move her show to the new network. This does beg the question though, who will take over her viewership of the non-cable viewers. Ellen may be making large gains in the market, her "lifestyle choices" may turn off alot of the viewers. Luckily a camera was there when Ms. Tyra Bank's heard the news, shortly before she began foaming at the mouth. Witnesses say Ms. Banks just repeated "My precious" over and over again. This gentleman hopes that a consortium of people whose shows Ms. Winfrey swallowed whole and then fad-dieted the weight away come together to make a new, more powerful show. Imagine and Knights of the Round Table scenario with Phil Donahue, Joan Rivers, Sally Jesse Rapheal, Mother Love, Jenny Jones, Montel Williams and Rikki Lake ( Go Phil-Joan-Sally Jesse- Mother Love- Jenny- Montel- Ricki, Go Phil-Joan-Sally Jesse- Mother Love- Jenny- Montel- Ricki). May their rule over the land of Daytime television be one of peace, understanding, and Gay African American Jewish KKK members.

Nicolas Cage, the bane of acting students who can't catch a break no matter their talent while Mr. Cage continues to be paid major money for his ridiculous work ( a gentleman means, this is his best work and let's just say he unlike EVERYONE ELSE in this movie, was not heralded for his performance) turns out to be spending that money faster than he can turn out a sequel, and is now in danger of loosing it all. After years of selling off his properties, including entire islands and European castles, the actor is still short. Cage was a known eccentric who topped off his prize Elvis fan collection by marrying Lisa Marie Presely in 2002 for 4 months before realizing she was not going to stay in her glass case in the collection room and named his son Kal-El after Superman. However, his problems are causing more information to come to light, such as his purchase of a dinosaur skull by outbidding Leonardo DiCaprio to a tune of $ 276,000. A gentleman must ask "Why on earth did Leonardo DiCaprio try to buy a massive reptile skull?" A gentleman only hopes it was research for his role as Howard Hughes and not a sign of things to come.

However, all is not lost for Mr Cage, as it looks like his longtime friend Johnny Depp may be looking to bail a buddy out. World knows that Mr. Depp owes Cage something as if it weren't for Nicolas' advice, Depp would still be attempting to break into the music business. Those of us who saw Tim Burton's Sweeney Todd know that Mr. Depp would probably not have the same bank account that he does now. Mr. Depp is further celebrated by being named the Sexist Man Alive by People Magazine. Either they picked the wrong person for the current year or my flux capacitor took me and society to 1994 instead of 1894. If that is the case I will be on my way to the salon in order to get the Rachel while listening to Dookie on my walkman.

"Bite my lip and close my eyes"

Danny

A Lady Returns To Her Upright Position

2009-11-19T00:24:00.007-06:00

First off, thank you Patrick for those stimulating travel games. The number of small Asian children that could mutilate me in a North American Geography Bowl would astound you. My travel companion also tried to teach me to be a better chess player, but I mostly just mined the game’s vocabulary for pun material and potential insults (“Fork your own Sicilian opening,” for example. Yeah, there’s not a whole lot to work with.)

Sorry for the pause in posts, friends. After a series of flights and delays spent drowsing in airports, I’ve made a safe return. Now, as I recover from a mild case of jet lag, I have time to reflect upon some of my in-flight behavior.

You see, all flights combined, I spent roughly 42 hours in the air. That’s a lot of time to be enclosed in a small aerially-suspended space. I’ve got to say, it’s not always easy to act like a lady while you’re blasting through the firmament in a plane that stalled for two hours on the tarmac before takeoff because someone's business class seat wouldn't recline the full 2.5 business class centimeters.

It’s especially difficult to act like a lady when you’ve been seated directly in the middle of a traveling high school show choir, decked out in matching red tracksuits with “Sing Asia! 2009” bedazzled across their backs.

But don’t worry. It’s not as if I was hurting for entertainment. United Airlines kindly provided its passengers with a selection of movies. I made it through one of them. Perhaps because of the film’s complex storyline and abstract beauty, they showed the same movie on the return flight. It was called The Proposal.

Ladies and Gentlemen, I watched the whole thing twice.

Twice!

I am ashamed.

I was exhausted. My eyes were bloodshot and drying out and I needed to pee but the “Occupied” sign had either malfunctioned--never to go dark again--or someone was in there giving birth. So you can't blame me for seeking distraction. Raising my gaze to the small screen dangling from the plane’s ceiling was the brilliant Betty White. The site of this aged comedienne encouraged some small inkling of hope to well up from my intestines (an hour later, this intestinal welling revealed itself to be a reaction to the antimalarial antibiotics I’d been taking) and slipping the complimentary headphones over my ears, I attempted to join the audience.

The poverty of Cambodia was less devastating to witness.

There were Sandra Bullock and Ryan Reynolds coughing up one of the worst scripts I've ever heard. I believe the denouement involved Ms. Bullock stumbling a bit and yelling "Um, Eek!"

Later in the flight I awoke to a dark plane, my head teetering dangerously close to the red velour-shouldered teenager sitting beside me. Through his earbuds I could hear the tinny sound of show tunes. My iPod had run out its battery hours before so I plugged my phones into the plane's radio system and landed on the Country & Western station which played on loop for the entirety of the flight. I listened to songs about runaway gentlemen and runaway dogs and I felt sad for Betty White stuck in that horrible movie, and sad for myself stuck on this miserable flight, and sad for the runaway dogs, and even a little sad for the poverty of Cambodia.

Then the "Occupied" light switched off and I clambered over the row of sleeping singers, squeezed into the miniature-sized bathroom, and instantly felt much better.

*A lady is sometimes given to moments of minor league masochism. Past ventures have included watching post-Second Season Weeds, engaging in conversations with strangers who identify themselves as poets, and consuming any amount of glazed donuts before embarking on lengthy bus trips.

A Gentleman is Happy to Oblige (part 2)

2009-10-30T01:45:00.010-05:00

Ladies and gentlemen are never bored. Here's my patented list of fun and challenging games to keep any world traveler constantly entertained.

INTERNATIONAL EYE-SPY
Keep your eyes peeled during your aimless travels and spot these must-see staples of twenty-something travel! Points are awarded based on difficulty.

President (current)... 300 pts.
President (former)... 275 pts.
American w/ Canadian backpack flag... Free medium fries at any participating McDonald's
President (deposed)... 200 pts.
Chick in a denim miniskirt... 10 pts.
Non-American child that knows more about American geography than you... 20 pts.
Warm beer... 10 pts.
Imported Miller High Life that's still cheaper than domestic Heineken... 20 pts.
Big-screen release of two-year-old American movie... 30 pts.
President (George Bush on motivational speaking tour)... Free medium fries at any participating McDonald's

IRISH CAR BOMB
Name your favorite drink. Now rename it something that will get you punched in a local bar.

ALPHABET SOUP
Redefine this list of commonly-used, internationally-recognized acronyms. Actually, can you just define these commonly-used, internationally-recognized acronyms? Like, no joke... do you know what they stand for? Shame on you. Whatever, just stick to the joke.

N.A.T.O. (Example: National Organization of Teenaged Opthamologists)
U.N.
B.B.C.
S.C.U.B.A.
E.U.
W.T.O.
W.N.B.A.

*A gentleman follows through on his promises, even if it means neglecting the subject of Halloween.

If One Must Gossip 10/29/09

2009-10-28T22:28:00.008-05:00

Once again, dear sirs and madams, I enter the party slightly later than what was thought fashionable but not so late that it's inexcusable. In a gentleman's attempts at always being on the brink of taste and civility he sometimes waves wearily on grounds that are as of yet too far on the edge, such as waiting an entire month to update you on the goings on of the world. To excuse myself and bring my "hip- motherly" rating slightly more toward the center, let me apologize by offering you a photo of a dear friends latest acquisition, also known as the most impossibly cute dog in the face of the earth, Rooie.
Now that that's out of the way, let's get back to gossip.

In what is most likely to be named as "the most annoyingly hipster-related event since Paper Heart comes the news that Ellen Page was given a writing development deal for her series entitled "Stitch and Bitch" which is about two worthless Brooklynite hipsters who decide they are tired of their feeble attempts to gain notoriety by doing mountains of cocaine, dressing like homeless people who have raided Courtney Love's never ending supply of Kurt's leftover flannel, and attempting to make eye contact with perfectly normal, jovial people riding the L train in an effort to elicit some note of disdain from that person (related side note, a gentleman or lady never displays their disdain of a hipster to their face, knowing that would please them too much) and instead decided to move to Silver Lake, which is Los Angeles' version of Williamsburg, Brooklyn. Ms. Page is being given this opportunity because of her extensive career in writing. ... PPPPPBBBBBBBBBBBBBBHHHHHH. Oh dear me I am so sorry, I didn't mean to spit my mulled wine all over your new white carpet. I just couldn't hold my laughter in anymore. No, no she she's being given a writing deal because she's considered some sort of indie-it girl for doing this base-intelligentsia level comedies about being an awkward teenager, instead of attempting to find interesting, thought provoking works that she's proven she has the talent for.in related news, she's not the first person who has thought of that title either, as my families bathroom has held this tome for quite some time now.

In the past 30 days, Pamela Anderson has done alot of live events that have resulted in some truly horrible photos of the once great beauty which has induced much nasty laughter around pianofortes countryside-wide alongside the stories of her massive bankruptcy from a combination of over-spending an other working. Ms. Anderson, ever the shocker, decided to combine her unwillingness to pay laborers and her ill-informed fashion ideas into one event, and showed up at the Hollywood Style Awards in a safety pinned tablecloth with a train held aloft by a frighted child. Not sure to start with the bad taste in picking that hideous outfit, or in using unpaid child labor on camera, the majority of America was appalled. To be fair, this was all a misunderstanding in wording. Ms. Anderson had decided that she needed a traveling companion, like the ladies of old and put an ad out for an internship position, which over 65,000 children all hoping to get an edge over their competitors for future employment applications applied for. Therefore it is okay that the child is not getting compensated monetarily because she's being paid with experience.

Ever the method actor, Christian Bale has been known to adapt his body and mind for a role more than any other actor of his generation. His most famous, and most terrifying, role of his career has always been that of Patrick Bateman from American Psycho. Now, thanks to
director Mary Harmon, we learn that Bale based his take on the character's disingenuous, disconnected personality on Tom Cruise after viewing an interview from around the time of shooting. A gentleman is not sure if he was supposed to be surprised at this news.

Oscar and "My breasts defy age, gravity and all known logic" winner Susan Sarandon is currently promoting her genetics by being an encouraging parent to her daughter, Eva Amurri. Sarandon recently told her daughter to take a role where she would be required to do nude scenes with noted sex addict David Duchovney. Amurri prior work was typically as the weird girl with short dark hair, a la Banger Sisters (where she played her mother's daughter) and Saved!, so the role of a blond stripper is a bit of a welcome left field play. Sarandon knows better than anyone to go nude or go home, as she brought the goods front and center for her first role in Rocky Horror Picture Show.

In cancer news, Dame Maggie Smith talked recently about her struggle attempting to pull through and finish the last of the Harry Potter films while suffering from breast cancer, which she was first diagnosed with in 2007. We here at L&G wish her rest and remission in honor of her years of being a class act of a lady and an example to us all. Furthermore, Andrew Lloyd Weber was diagnosed with prostate cancer. A gentleman is ashamed to admit he took some delight in this news, as it might put an end to the abortion that is "Phantom of the Opera II: Would you like some Carnies with that?". Unfortunately, the major casting was finalized recently. One can only hope that the shows death, or Lloyd Weber's, comes soon. While no one wishes death upon the man, One knows that Lloyd Weber's heart is deceitful above all things, and that the success of "Christine Daae must be mentally challenged if she can't figure out who would invite her to sing at an opera attraction called 'Phantasma'" would only encourage him to other dastardly deeds, such as "CATSerwaul" or "CATStastrophe" or "I swear to god if one of these freaks in a fuzzy leotard tries to touch me again I'm going to stab it in the throat and be forever heralded as the man who finally saved the world from CATS". Oh dear, it seems Lady Erin dropped her glass of mulled wine on the carpet while laughing about Ms. Daae's mental prowless. horrors this carpet is just ghastly now.

Lastly, Charlize Theron will do anything for a good cause, and we mean anything. and to the person who bid 280,000 for a kiss from Jeremy Piven, Pamela Anderson called. She has some reading material on the various strains of Hepatitis she would like to go over with you since you've now contracted them. Wait... You didn't know? What did you think "Mercury Posioning from excess of fish in his diet"was supposed to mean?

I'm off to the CVS to pick up their immediate application stain remover (which works suprising well). We'll get that mulled wine out of the carpet yet
Ta.
Danny

A Lady Is Abroad

2009-10-22T20:10:00.005-05:00

As Patrick was saying in his last post, I have indeed fled to Southeast Asia for a brief tour of the region. I am writing this from a small mountain town in northern Vietnam, where it is currently too foggy to move without the risk of falling down an unexpected stairwell or landing in a freshly-made pile of poultry byproduct.

During my travels I have, of course, been studying how the ladies of other countries are meant to behave. For example, in the tribal villages of the Black Hmong people, I am told that it is customary for a gentleman to kidnap a lady who he wishes to marry, hold her for three days and then demand a decision from her. Or, consider the plight of the young Red Dao lady who is kept out of school in order to sell her wares to the tourists who have desceended upon the nearby hill towns.

While this rings strange to the ears of a Western lady, I have encountered an even more disturbing difference:

In Vietnam, women are assumed to be tea drinkers, while gentlemen are automatically served coffee.

Readers, this has posed a bit of an issue for your lady correspondent. I love the dark brown stuff and the way it's made here, I could drink gallons. But they serve me light green tea with cinnamon cloves which, while simply delightful, is not at all what I need to gear me up for a 6 AM bus trip crosscountry. This, while the gentleman across the table is offered cup after cup of precious, glorious, sweet golden cafe.

You see, it is diffficult to be a lady in any part of the world.

*A lady may be accurately called a broad if she engages in the following activities: Wearing a denim miniskirt and halter top to an ancient place of worship, complaining that this ancient place of worship looks "kind of old and disgusting and stuff," and conversing with her fellow broad on a cell phone while noisily walking through this ancient place of worship in heels she refused to remove at the door. A broad, once accurately named, thus gives up her internationally-recognized title of Lady.

A Gentleman is Happy to Oblige (part 1)

2009-10-08T21:33:00.008-05:00

Like any civic-minded gentleman, I try to do at least one good deed a day. Helping cats cross the street, getting old ladies down from trees. You know, civic.

Unfortunately, my latest attempt at charity seems to have backfired. The other day, I accidentally read Alyssa's post. I didn't mean to, but the font was different and I thought it was a Wikipedia article about Dunkin' Donuts. Anyway, I came across this:

"*A lady has never once been blackmailed and, to be honest, she's feeling a little left out."

Did I mention I'm civic-minded and charitable? Two of my biggest interests are extortion and other peoples' bucket lists, plus I have tons of dirt on Alyssa. Tons. Just... take my word for it.

But apparently I was too good at my job, because one manila envelope and seventeen glossy photos later, Alyssa was bound for Cambodia and Vietnam--two countries which, by the by, don't have extradition treaties with the US.

Coincidence?

Now, she's promised she'll continue to blog (the way Polanski continues to make movies.) Still, exile can involve a lot of waiting around in airports, so I'm determined to compile a list of the best games to play when you don't have access to liquor, cards, Sudoku, or an iPhone. Stay tuned.

*A gentleman helps his friends out in a bind, even if he's the one who put them there.

A Lady's Done Some Creepy Things, Too

2009-10-04T20:48:00.002-05:00

Let's face it: At this point, a gentleman's blackmail-induced confession of indecent conduct is par for the course, be he statesman, funnyman, or man of the cloth. Any gent can toss off a "Woops! Sorry for getting caught, everybody. But I would still really appreciate your money--I mean votes--I mean, um, woops."

Pretty boilerplate stuff.

But you know what's still fresh and exciting? An unprovoked confession from a lady undergoing no public scrutiny whatsoever!

So, to all (3) of you readers, a lady would like to admit:

I have done some creepy things. Most of them have involved repeated, inappropriately-timed attempts at snapping my toes. In public places. On the subway. In flip-flops at the movies. To elaborate, I can snap some of my toes, but the goal is to make a clearly audible sound--much like the more well-known finger snap variation--emit from the snapping motion between each set of adjacent toe pairings. The whole process enters the creepy zone when a pair of said toes cramps up and I have to bend over and manually pry the tiny toe from the back of its spasming neighbor. In the spirit of full disclosure, I admit that I have also done this creepy thing at church weddings, during outdoor sporting events, at work, and, most shamefully, in the check-out line at Dunkin' Donuts.

For these transgressions, I do apologize from the very tips of my toes.

*A lady has never once been blackmailed and, to be honest, she's feeling a little left out.

If One Must Gossip 9/30/09

2009-09-30T22:17:00.003-05:00

Another summer has past, dear readers, and we find ourselves heading into my most favorite of seasons, fall. Fall is the greatest time for a lady or gentleman. Its cool breezes and colorful plumage inspire the best of fashions. the start of scarf and sweater season, without the cumbersome additions of heavy coats and boots that soon come with the Winter. The air begins to take on a rich aroma of apples and cinnamon. The tourist season is over for our more cosmopolitan of readers, who are now free to roam the city without a good majority of the babbling masses swarming sidewalks as they stop to take a photo of any building above twenty stories. We trade in Pina Coladas for Hot Toddies, Pilsners and Wheats for Ales and Stouts, and Grapefruit sauteed Mahi Mahi with Mango Salsa for Pumpkin Seed Encrusted Catfish with an Apple Cider based Jelly (seriously though... Zumi's @ 9th and 43rd. delicious). But most important in the world of gossip. We trade Summer Blockbusters for the inevitable October Horrorfest and the start of heated Oscar runner season. Essentially a good time for a gentleman such as my self.

In the world of Gossip, we have some familiar faces with repeated stories coming up all over again, in a irrelevant but still somewhat endearing way. Alot like Lethal Weapon 4, Rocky 4, Live Free or Die Hard (the 4rth)...basically any 4rth movie in a series except for Star Wars. Someone recently discovered that as Kurt Cobain is an un-lockable player in Guitar Hero 5, you can make him play any song. and Horror of Horrors, someone made the character fake sing "You Give Love a Bad Name." Courtney Love, that flip-flopper between lady-dom and gutter-wench, quickly blamed the issue on Dave Grohl, like always, and suggested someone "assrape" him in order to teach him a lesson. Through a joint statement, the two actual members of Nirvana boiled their argument down to "Dave Grohl is too rich to have to do this, Chris Novoselic is too political to do it, and most importantly, neither of them own the likeness rights. The only person who does is the person who controls his estate....duh" To confirm their statement, game creator Activision released a statement saying that they had had many discussions with Ms. Love about EXACTLY what the character would look like. Both Grohlvoselic and Love have suggested re-locking the character. What this gentleman wants to know, is what does Jon Bon Jovi think about this, as its his name that is really being dragged in the mud. While his music may not have had the emotional angst behind it, the man and his band created some great music to drive too. A Gentleperson knows what battles to pick, and realizes that this is not one to care about. At least Kurt's daughter, the amazing fashionplate of Frances Bean, will be getting some money for her future out of this, as opposed to the millions that artist's estates like Jimmy Hendrix and Bradley Nowell get robbed through characters that are merely based of a composite of the person but are not explicitly modeled after them. Frances Bean will have her revenge on Seattle, and it will be developing into a normal human being who finds her parents' (and by proxy those sad 40 year olds who still think that the man just doesn't understand their generation) outlook on fame and the world in general as immature and narcissistic.

Another fixture of my childhood and a Gentlemen who was a model of how to woo a lady in the late 1980s and early 1990s met his end in this summer that has been called "the summer of death". Patrick Swayze, after fighting off pancreatic cancer with the tenacity of his performance in Road House, finally succumbed last week. A Gentleman is happy to say that he passed on at home in the presence of his family (This was the first question I asked of my sister, the gentle soul who knew I would need comfort in my time of grief. This gentleman was able to work through it by the combined power of Solomon Burke's "Cry to Me" and Mr. Swayze's own "She's like the Wind." It really is much to painful to talk about, and so I'll end the conversation with how I, and most of the world, will remember him, when we all learned the valuable lesson that no one likes the Pachanga.

While the world still continues to decide whether Megan Fox is an attractive lady who just likes the tattooing arts a smidge too much or if she is a hell beast who feeds off of hating Michael Bay more than all Tisch graduate students combined, she's decided to add a new, third possibility for what her true being is, that of an un-hinged, confused young woman on the verge of psychotic breakdown. She recently sat down with Rolling Stone to discuss her possible eating disorder, her admitted cutting, and her decision to stay away from guns because she feels she could easily shoot a loved on in the leg for no real offense. In the past she's been known, like that other doomed young hollywoodette Lindsey Lohan, to have an unnatural attraction and/or idolation of Marilyn Monroe, a trailblazer in tragic E! True Hollywood stories. No matter which three of the options we have, Ms Fox did recently prove one thing- which is that she has absolutely no box office bankablity as a lead actress.

In good things happening to good people who never get the credit they deserve news. Regina Spektor is writing for a new musical which should be debuting in two years loosely based off the original Grimm's Fairytale of Sleeping Beauty. Also, Toni Collette won the Emmy for Best Leading Actress in a Comedy, beating out favorite Tina Fey for the prize. This win was however shadowed by the many people who felt Fey was the better actress. These people are right and wrong at the same time. They are right because the show is much more of a drama than a comedy and is mis-categorized due to the unsightly moniker of Diablo Cody being attached to the production. They are wrong because Toni Collette acting in the show is unsurpassable, and unfortunately unlikable as all the audio has been removed from any clips I am able to procure online.

Lastly, as adjunct professor for the College of Musical Knowledge. I have some treats for my dear readers and friends. First, the Noisettes- Live, Learn, and Then get the Noisettes, guaranteed to brighten up any traveling experience. Another friend from across the pond, Jamie T., has released some new gems and a video to go along with in which he travels as a gentlemen should, driven by British India colonists while escaping Mimes. The ever-confusing Antony of Antony and the Johnsons has finally done an official recording for his long-time haunting cover of Beyonce's "Crazy in Love" with an equally disturbing video. The last song is a few years old, but something that really has a fall feel, Patrick Wolf's "The Magic Position"

I'm now off to have my dear little godson paint some pictures, and then sell them to the Guggenheim as Kandinsky's during his middle period where he decided "Why don't I make art that looks like a kindergartner did it- but then bullshit about how I am just trying to make art not about the object it portrays. "

Danny

K Day

2009-09-23T10:53:00.020-05:00

Dear readers,

This is our 100th post and our one-year anniversary. Please indulge us.

Love, Patrick & Alyssa

“I want to speak to the people all around the world. How famous can you make Karl Pilkington? Are you a journalist? Please write about this for people who probably haven’t listened. Talk about Karl Pilkington. Put a little poster up in your window: ‘I love Karl Pilkington.’ Print a badge. Give it away. E-mail your friends. Tell one person about this podcast and let them discover the amazing beauty that is Karl Pilkington’s mind.” –Ricky Gervais

Friends of ours (and friends of our hyperlinks) will be all too familiar with our love of Karl Pilkington. He has haunted our thoughts. He has colored our collective sense of humor. He has taught us several interesting facts about monkeys, none of which are remotely true or even plausible. Because he holds such a dear place in our hearts, we have decided to take up the cause detailed by Ricky Gervais in the above quote. We want to do our part to make Karl famous.

Karl “Boxer Boy” Pilkington (born September 23rd, 1972) is a shining example—a valuable case study—of a brilliant mind in an educational vacuum. Having grown up in Manchester, England with next-to-no schooling, Karl’s entire worldview is based heavily upon the combination of his own basic reasoning and the least credible sites on the internet. His childhood is evocative of Roald Dahl’s body of work, featuring an uncle who slept in a rubber dinghy, a brother who was kicked out of the army for “going for a packet of fags in a tank”, and a neighbor who kept a horse in the living room. At one point during his childhood, Karl suffered a fall attempting to, in his words, "kick his height." This fall has caused him lifelong back pain.

Also noteworthy is Karl’s head, which is shaped like a fucking orange.

********************************************************

Halloween is just around the corner! Here are Alyssa's instructions for making a Karl costume.

1) Shave your fuckin' head.
2) Cast a perfectly spherical metal mold and shove your bald head inside. Let it sit for 3 - 6 weeks, or until your skull has grown appropriately orange-like in shape.
3) Have your Auntie Nora knit you a scarf.
4) Eliminate all expression from your face. Just let your mind, um, rest.

********************************************************

In 2001, Karl began work as a producer (aka “The guy who presses the buttons”) for a British radio show hosted by comedians Ricky Gervais and Steven Merchant. Here, the incredible anti-genius of Pilkington was miraculously combined with a microphone… and England listened.

"They say it all started out with a big bang. But, what I wonder is, was it a big bang or did it just seem big because there wasn't anything else drown it out at the time?"

“Jellyfish are 97% water or something, so how much are they doing? Just give them another 3% and make them water. It's more useful."

“A stitch in five saves fifteen or whatever."

In 2005, Ricky, Steve, and Karl switched from radio to podcasting, quickly setting the Guinness world record for most downloaded podcast in history. Instrumental in the group’s success was Karl and his infamous quote: “I could eat a knob at night.” (The trio was discussing the challenges of I’m a Celebrity… Get Me Out of Here!, one of which involved contestants eating a kangaroo’s penis.) This quote has since been spray-painted on London walls and sampled into several different techno dance recordings.

Throughout this period of relative fame, Karl has remained something of a hermit, choosing to spend most nights with his long-term girlfriend, Suzanne. One of his chief complaints regarding his own success stems from accusations that his apparent stupidity is feigned for the sake of comedy, that he is, in fact, a character. Steven Merchant deflected these attacks early on. "If we came up with a character as good as Karl, we would never squander him on a poxy little radio station like this one.”

Whether we’re laughing with him or at him, Karl Pilkington forces his listeners to redefine the word “intelligence” and question its application in life. His unique perspective is polarizing, sure, but even as you’re stunned by his train of thought, you can’t help but try and follow along a bit. Metacognition is cool again—and it’s pretty goddamn funny.

Happy birthday, Mr. Dilkington.

*'But just 'cause I'm not doing the news, look it up. It's all out there. Don't be ignorant.' –KP

A Gentleman Is... Yawn ...What was I saying?

2009-09-22T18:29:00.004-05:00

For those of you who don't keep L&G milestones in your iCal, this week will mark our first anniversary. That's right. One full year. Of this.

Now I'm not bringing this up because I expect a gift. My point is much more simple than that: I am tired.

So, in lieu of another long treatise** on whatever, please accept this lovingly-embedded hyperlink. Even though I'm exhausted, my co-conspirator has been working overtime, guest blogging on another hilarious website. Fucking showoff.

*A gentleman makes full use of iCal. Have I used this one before? I feel like I have. Whatever, I'm gonna take a nap.

**For another long treatise on whatever, tune in tomorrow!

A Lady Is Courageous

2009-09-19T22:01:00.004-05:00

It takes a lot of courage to be a lady in America. With so many obstacles lining the road to ladydom, it's no wonder so few of us actually make it. Consider the following snares just lurking in the shadows, waiting to interrupt a lady's progress:

1) The first sentence of this Wiki entry. Suggestion: Read the description laid out in the leading paragraph, then draw your own picture of what you think a romper might actually look like. Then Google search an image of one. A lady bets you five bucks that your doodle looks more dignified.

Actually, I can't bear to continue this list. Number one has almost completely sucked the courage right out of me. But I will tell you about a courageous thing I did recently.

I went in here, purchased something, and made it out to the parking lot without crying or punching anyone in the face/groin/nametagged pectorals.

Now I am aware that a lot of ladies, and even some gentlemen, enjoy Ikea. Quite a bit, even. They actually look forward to strolling among the displays of kitchenettes and cheery bedroom sets. But the whole place just sets me hurtling toward a full-blown family-sized panic attack. It must be the disposable domesticity of the place--room after rickety-tabled room just waiting to be purchased, tied to the top of a car, and carted off to someone's sad sublet apartment. Maybe it's all of those Swedish o-slashes. Or those fucking microwavable meatballs marinating in that concrete-colored sauce. Sorry, I've got to stop typing and go crawl under the covers before the cold sweat pouring out of my palms completely clogs up my keyboard.

*When a lady needs a little extra boost of courage, she remembers one of the bravest ladies in history.

A Gentleman Is Wary

2009-08-31T00:39:00.004-05:00

Welcome to another post about employment. Please visit the "comments" section for the traditional L&G Job Status Haiku. As always, feel free to contribute your own.

In my quest to catalog the subtle requirements of gentlemanity, I've given plenty of advice and praised my gender for its many strengths. However, it does occasionally fall to me to point out inevitable weaknesses that come with the territory. Occupational hazards. It happens, people.

Today, I need to talk a bit about vanity. A gentleman--much like high school students and most politicians--occasionally tends to view himself as the main character in his own, personal, real-time biopic. He is the Andy Kaufman of his own Man on the Moon. The Patch Adams of his own Patch Adams. Am I guilty of this? Of course. Of course I am. Obviously. Obviously.

Now, you might wonder: if I have no intention of ever changing (and believe me, I don't), why would I even go mentioning this flaw in the first place? Because it's causing me anxiety, that's why.

Let me explain. This weekend, I got a job. Finally. Next weekend, I'm spending what is sure to be a lovely holiday in NYC with family, friends, and fellow bloggers. On top of all that, my anthropomorphic iPod decided to start working again and I finally found a dandruff shampoo that works for me. I should be on top of the world, right?

Wrong. Things are going too well. The formula for anti-hero biopics is clear and unchanging, and my movie-poisoned brain is waiting for the inevitable tragedy to come rolling in and start Act II. Personal injury? Addiction to diet pills? If I'm really lucky--that is to say, if my life's movie is a true blockbuster hit--maybe I'll get framed for murder sometime in the next couple of weeks.

And what a fun blog post that'll be!

*A gentleman is aware of the dangers around him. A potential hazard of class and intellect is a common personality disorder known as "John Mayer Disease", the symptoms of which are a total lack of perspective and an overblown sense of importance.

If One Must Gossip 8/29/09

2009-08-29T16:21:00.010-05:00

With the Flurry of posts that has recently come to Ladies Ampersand Gentlemen, a gentleman has taken time to enjoy the end of the summer while his co-conspirators made sure to give you enough stimulation and entertainment. In my absence, as noted by Ms. Varner, Hurricanes have toyed with the east coast until passing over the area. Now Hurricane Danny is performing the same dance of seven veils as today's weather goes for cloudy and windy to sunny and back again. Since a gentlemen is stuck at home at the moment, he thought he would make sure to bring you up to speed with recent developments that, unlike the Michael Jackson homicide decision, are not over-publicized.

Jerry O'Connell, who has never really had much of a career, has apparently entered into law school at the Southwestern Law School of Los Angeles. The actor, whose best recent role was his homage to the Tom Cruise Scientology interview from Funny or Die, just welcomed twins this year with his wife, Rebbecca Romaijn-Stamos-O'Connell-Banana-Fana-Fo-Fommell (this is the name that appears on her driver's license). O'Connell says he is going to be taking classes at night, so as to be with the babies during the day, since his wife is the main breadwinner at this, or really at any, time. It's nice to see that O'Connell has decided to move on and pursue other interests as opposed to forever being "that guy who used to play bit parts in cool movies." On behalf of Ladies Ampersand Gentlemen, I wish him well and hope to god that his wife does not allow him to immediately take over as her agent, as I assume he will most likely go into entertainment law.

Milla Jovovitch of Resident Evil and every science fiction movie of the last ten years fame, married the father of her child, director Paul W.S. Anderson. Mr. W.S. Anderson, the writer director of the Resident Evil and the Mortal Combat movies, is not to be confused with Paul Thomas Anderson, the director of There Will be Blood. The couple met on the set of Resident Evil and their union will probably make Dungeon Masters who make films in their parent's basement everywhere think that one day they too will marry a gorgeous Eastern European supermodel. Her loss from the world of single ladies is a great loss for gentleman everywhere. For the ladies, John Krasinski has recently become engaged to Emily Blunt, so recently in fact that besides that there have been no release of wedding plans. The final update in marriage news comes from town of Riverdale , where Archie and Veronica are soon to be wed. A gentleman is so upset at this news he cannot contain his anger within the confines of this blog and instead will direct you here.

In legal drama Chris Brown was finally sentenced for the unnecessary and truly barbaric attack on his former lady friend Rhianna that occured in February. While there is no jail time, which is a honestly a shame, he has been given a five year restraining order, anger management, and manual labor, which is probably the most one could hope for in a celebrity case in Los Angeles County. The sentencing revealed that there had been previous altercations before this one, spanning the globe. While visiting Rhianna's family in Barbados for example, Brown apparently got into such a temper that he smashed the front windows out of the rented vehicle they had. While sometimes this action may seem necessary, a gentleman assures you it is never acceptable except in the specific case provided by this link. In the end, this gentleman still believes that no one should be to surprised at Mr. Brown's reaction due to the fact that the most successful song he has been involved with equates love with asphyxiation.

Lauren Bacall, apparently at the bequest of her granddaughter, now has a twitter. Ladies and Gentleman....it is good. It is soooo good. It is 100 times better than Elizabeth Taylor's. Lauren Bacall is a true case study in being a Lady and her insights on the world are probably the greatest notes Twitter has ever seen. It is so good this gentleman even pick a favorite conversation. The choice is between her musings on how being of a certain age is marvelous because you can smoke all you want an no one cares, considering smacking her granddaughter for calling Twilight the greatest vampire film ever made and instead giving her a DVD of Nosferatu, or her point on how she never appreciated cats until she met Vivian Leigh and, instead of explaining the point, instead puts a picture of them together up. It helps for the image to read the posts in your head with this voice.

This does beg the question though, If Lauren Bacall and Elizabeth Taylor are holding open seminars on ladylike musings for women, where are the men supposed to get their advice on Twitter if they were to so choose to search there? Ashton Kutcher? Cary Grant would of course be the obvious choice, but he is no longer in this world. Rock Hudson, Humprey Bogart, Jimmy Stewart, Gregory Peck, Paul Newman...all the greats who would normally be the choice to fulfill the role have shuffled the mortal coil before being able to help a young man grow into a gentleman. After a narrowing of choices I believe that Ian McKellan, Patrick Stewart, and Anthony Hopkins would all good role models for today's young up-start gentleman. followed closely by Robert Duvall and Al Pacino, who have a more Bogart gruff than Grant sheen. Pacino has already logged time with hands on gentleman training experience so we know he can do a great job. Until we get to a point where the above named gentleman begin giving us their insights, we'll just have to hope that Gentleman Rock gets a hold on the world outside of Clark Street, Chicago.

Lastly, a gentleman doesn't like to over-state his point, so instead of pointing out examples of how he was correct in his musing on the Gwyneth Paltrow/Scarlett Johannson debacle, he is just going to say he told you so.

A Lady's Got You Covered

2009-08-27T23:50:00.003-05:00

You're right, Patch. I have been acting like a defeatist. But I've been a completist in my defeatism. And where does a lady turn when she's given up completely?

That's right: YouTube.

Sometimes, it is a lady's job to scour the internet for people who have stooped to even sadder straits than she. That's how I found myself a new YouTube genre: The Homemade TV Theme Song Cover Video.

It's a beautiful sight, these people. Talented and alone, playing the songs from the shows that moved them most. Occasionally, these videos are the product of what happens when a fax machine (see lower right hand corner) babysits for an afternoon. Once in awhile, you find people who are so dedicated to their craft, they don't even bother changing out of their pajamas.

Even a Brit gave it a go. (They can't be superior in everything.)

*A lady was significantly cheered by this roomful of gentlemen.

A Gentleman Makes Lemonade (2)

2009-08-25T21:55:00.006-05:00

Honestly Alyssa, I'm a little concerned over this attitude of yours. Completist? More like defeatist.

First of all, I'm a little scandalized that you would actually have a checklist to log natural disasters. Blah-zay. Have you considered a bingo-type game, or a commemorative mix tape?

More to the point, however, is your willingness to give up. Haven't you ever been in love, Pinch? Love is not stationary. Love is not patient. And if Love won't come to you, then you must go find Love. Basically, what I'm saying is... I think it's time we followed in the footsteps of our heroes, Helen Hunt and Bill Paxton.

But if we're already chasing "dreams", then why stop with natural disasters? What about identity theft? What about a bungee jumping accident? What about Enron--remember Enron? I'm just saying, if we're already planning a road trip to stalk your cyclonic paramour, it would be short-sighted not to experience the incredible variety of mishaps and tragedies that life has to offer. If I don't lose $200 on three-card monte before I turn 30, I'm going to be severely put out.

*A gentleman takes lemons and makes lemonade. You don't even want to know what he does with potatoes.

A Lady Is A Natural Disaster

2009-08-25T00:32:00.006-05:00

I am just a wreck. Having suffered one of the greatest disappointments a lady can face, I now turn to the blogging community for support.

Friends, I was this close to checking off the last box on my Natural Disasters Checklist!

Earthquake? Check.

Monsoon? Check.

Tornado? Check. Check.

Hurricane? ___

For a completist like me, this is a serious blow.

Bill RSVP'd. He said he was coming for the weekend. He promised to be on time for dinner. (He was going to bring the dessert gelatin!)

But he didn't show. Not even a phone call.

Then, about a day afterwards, I find out he didn't even stop to see his second-cousin twice-removed in Canada--he just blew straight through. Unacceptable.

I mean, there are other hurricanes out there. Except you have to catch them at just the right moment--otherwise they flake out and say they're going through some kind of tropical depression and want time alone. I even tried inviting Claudette at the last minute, but she said she'd got something caught in her eye.

Whatever, guys. I can make my own dessert gelatin.

*A lady uses check marks to denote the completion of each task on a list. This rule is excepted on the following types of lists, in which case a strikethrough is employed: Grocery, Bucket, and Hit. When a lady uses an application with no apparent symbol-insertion button, a lady writes out the word "Check."

A Gentleman is Invaluable

2009-08-21T13:59:00.006-05:00

It seems we've had an increase in output lately. Some of our readers may be surprised to discover that blogging is not the full-time occupation of any of our Staff Writers. (I, for instance, moonlight as a professional confidence man. My favorite grift is the "Soapy Smith".)

I know that, in the past, we've poked fun at our employment woes, the state of the American workforce, etc.. But, in all seriousness, I am shocked whenever I hear that a Ladies Amp. writer is having trouble landing a job. To think that young men and women with so much to offer aren't immediately made CEOs of whatever company they apply to... well, frankly, it makes me sick.

Hopefully, a few recruiters are reading this very post. To them I say: please, take the time to really get to know Alyssa, Danny, Scott, Randal, Helen, and a number of ghost writers who will remain nameless. It is in your best interest.

The staff of Ladies Amp. is made up of the brightest minds that blogger.com can muster. Not only can any one of them write a twenty-page post in forty-five minutes, they can edit that down to fifteen pages in the next hour, maybe an hour fifteen. Our writers are always ready to expound on edgy subjects like haiku, British radio, and Mark Sanford. Their knowledge of the internet would make them ideal for a position in web design or search engine optimization, or perhaps inside trading. I don't know--use your imagination. Just don't tell me that "you're going in another direction."

I'll tell you what direction you can go in. Vitriol!

*A gentleman expresses solidarity. I'm so upset about the plight of my fellow writers that I'm not even going to make a hyperlink out of Soapy Smith. Look it up yourself.

A Lady Enables

2009-08-20T14:07:00.003-05:00

Isn't there an app for that?

If not, we've got to get you to the patent office right away! And if we're stopping by anyway, I may as well invent something on the car ride over.

I've got it!

If gentlemen are going to have a Relationship App, ladies should have one too. And you know what I've discovered after 23 years of being a lady? Ladies enjoy getting married. They do! I've seen it on Facebook, even.

So to add to my roster of Mac inventions, I give you the iDo.

What does the iDo do, gentlemen may ask?

The iDo says it, so you won't have to.

Picture it: You're standing at the altar/inside the gazebo/on the poop deck/beneath the trellis/atop the "dormant" volcano and the priest/priestess/captain/vicar/power-vested-volcanologist says, "Well, do ya?"

Lady: Uh-huh.

Gentleman: Uhhh--

Now here's where the iDo comes in handy. You hit the button and a pre-recorded groom-sounding voice makes a clear expression of assent, and there you go. No gentleman's going to say "Hey, where'd that come from?" Especially with that volcano making those rumbling noises beneath his feet.

Coming soon: iDoToo for same-sex marriages.

*A lady is happy to help.

A Gentleman Provides

2009-08-19T12:14:00.003-05:00

I have to admit, sometimes it's easy for me to get lost in vague concepts like "wishing" or "YouTube". I forget that my portion of this blog is about advice for men. By way of an apology, I'd like to let our gentleman readers in on a practical little secret of mine, one that's kept me happy in relationships since middle school.

Print this out when you start dating someone, provided you want to stay with her. Fill it out and keep it on your person at all times. (Gay gentlemen, feel free to substitute "boyfriend" where appropriate.) Enjoy!

RELATIONSHIP CHEAT SHEET
(for the infidelity contract, see CHEATER'S SHEET)

A. Girlfriend's Basic Information

Name
a. First: ______________
b. Middle: ____________
c. Last: ______________

Birthday: ______________
Lies about age: y__ n__

Family
a. Mother's name: _________
b. Father's name: __________
c. Siblings' names (Catholic families use back side of page):
____________
____________
____________

Best Friends:
____________
____________

Best Enemies:
____________
____________
____________
____________
____________

Pet's name: _________

Education/Occupation
a. College attended (if any): _________
b. Degree earned: ________________
c. Current occupation: _____________
d. Desired occupation: _____________

B. Relationship Basic Information

Anniversary: ___________________
Where you met: _________________
"Your song": ___________________

C. Girlfriend's Favorites/Preferences

Color: ____________________
Flower: ___________________
Food: ____________________
Season: ___________________
Movie: ____________________
Book (she says): ______________
Book (for real):
The Da Vinci Code___ Harry Potter 6___ Twilight___
Animal (domestic): _____________
Animal (wild): ________________
Song: ______________________
Song (drunk): ________________

D. Gift Giving Information

Birthstone: __________________
Favorite Gemstone: ____________
Bra size: ____________________
Shoe size: ___________________
Ring size: ___________________
Silver or gold: ________________
DVD or Blu-ray:_______________
Stick shift or automatic: __________

E. Advanced Information

Political affiliation: ___________________
Parents' political affiliation: ______________

Religion: __________________________
Practicing: y__ n__
Previous religions:
________________________________
________________________________
Parents' religion: ____________________

Tattoo image/text: ____________________
Tattoo's location on body: _______________
Tattoo story/significance: _______________
_________________________________

Previous sexual parters (confirmed):
_______________
_______________

Previous sexual partners (speculative):
_______________
_______________

American Sign Language Proficiency (1-10): ___

Alibis/cover stories for parents/police:
_______________________________
_______________________________
_______________________________
_______________________________

Sister hotness rating (1-10): ___

*A gentleman has clean handwriting.

A Lady's Goal Post

2009-08-18T22:52:00.006-05:00

Why thank you for asking, Patrick. I do in fact have a few goals I've set for myself.

Short term: Have dim sum for dinner sometime this summer.

Long term: Successfully karaoke to Purple Rain.

I'll get around to those sooner or later. But I also think it's important to take a look back at some of the goals I've set for myself in the past and evaluate my progress thus far.

Goal: Learn to play the bagpipes.

Progress: One year of lessons completed. Quit on account of limited lung capacity.

Goal: Convince everyone I meet that Wedding Crashers, Joel McHale and THIS have, collectively, made the world substantially stupider.

Progress: Despite my continuous wingeing about the Triumvirate of Disgrace, THIS has been allowed to happen.

Goal: Make the definitive YouTube tribute to the yellow member of The Wiggles.

Progress: Project aborted--already been done.

*A lady sometimes sets herself too many goals, such as "If you can scratch your left knee sixty times in thirty seconds, you'll live forever." When this happens, a lady has to remind herself that such notions are not goals, but symptoms.

A Gentleman Doesn't Wish Upon Anything

2009-08-17T20:55:00.012-05:00

Wishing is impotent--it carries a heavy implication of unlikelihood. If you say you wish for something, not only are you quietly acknowledging that the odds are against it, but that you're willing to leave the whole thing up to chance.

Instead, a true gentleman predicts his desires, then works to make them come true. (Example: I didn't say "I wish Pinch would write about palindromes." I worked to see my dreams fulfilled, and was rewarded with yesterday's post.)

The following might seem like a sort of wish-list. Please understand my meaning: this is a Prediction-List, a set of goals you can be sure will be met through gentlemanly efforts. So mark your iCal or whatever. These are my predictions:

* * *

"Cherry Cordial Oreos" will dominate the novelty snack market, winning over the tween and college student demographics with delicious, cough-syrupy filling.

The battle for healthcare reform will be won in a landslide when a proactive President Obama taps The Jonas Brothers as the nation's most influential anti-lobbyists.

The much-anticipated remake of The Breakfast Club will sweep the MTV Movie Awards, yet remain largely ignored by the Academy of Motion Picture Arts and Sciences. Michael Cera will enjoy popular recognition for his portrayal of the "nerd" character once played by Anthony Michael Hall.

Sarah Palin will remain an easy target, Twittering via Blackberry using a series of screen names that includes SarahPalinUSA, SarahPalin2012, SPfoxnews, and, briefly, ExonerateSarahP.

I finally land my dream job: Late-night DJ at a classic rock radio station. In a fluke encounter at a screening of The Breakfast Club, I get to talking with Nick Michaels, who quickly identifies my aptitude for making vague, airy comments about 70's arena rock hits.
"You're listening to 'The Gentleman After-Hours', where we play the music... that really meant something."

Finally, I predict Scott will write us another movie review.

* * *

Well, I guess that's it--oh wait. One more thing about the movies. If you decide you want to "share" my popcorn with me, I predict that I'm going to lick my fingers after every buttery handful. Germophobes, be warned.

So Pinch, what goals have you set for yourself?

*A gentleman occasionally illustrates.

A Lady Palindromes Upon Request

2009-08-16T23:20:00.007-05:00

Poetry of Patches makes patches of poetry.

Palindromes of Pinches make pinches of palindromes.

Aw, this is too hard. I'm no Demetri Martin. Sorry, but I've got to switch forms. From here on, I'll be writing entirely in acronyms. CHEERS.

REDTRAIN.

BAD TACOS?

TBD ... WHAM!

BADD.

[EOM]

Well, that's enough of that. I'd keep going but the truth is, acronyms scare me. All the most horrible things are presented to us in acronymic fashion: terrible diseases, mysterious government programs, military operations, political parties, social movements, nonprofit organizations, *shudder* ... postal codes.

Maybe it's the way they clog up the flow of a text. Dressed in bold and all caps, they stick out like a member of the GOP at an LGBT rally. Or say you're reading something interesting--you're going along and suddenly your eyes scan FRRRF, or some other block of consonants that sound like the onomatopoeic approximation of a slow and painfully-released BM.

The only one I'm OK with is UNICEF. It sounds nice, almost looks like a real word, and makes me think of candy. Yeah, UNICEF is alright.

*A lady is sometimes a failed palindromist.

A Gentleman Channels His "Feelings" Into "Art"

2009-08-11T14:48:00.007-05:00

BUREAUCRACY
An alliterative prose poem by Patrick DeLoach

The damage to my day is delay. The dilemma is due to the dense den of dutiful denizens directed through the doorway before me. I don't dare dodge my derived detention, so I deposit my denim-clad derriere in a chair till the Desk deigns to dignify my demand for a directive.

"License plate renewal? Counter 2. Take a number."

Mystery of mysteries why the middle-man is mandatory, but my mission is movement and I march with motivation towards the matronly manager of counter 2. Maggie. I mark myself to mind my manners, but Maggie meanwhile masticates a mouthful of M&M's. She mentions that I missed my mandatory motor matriculation. Missed it by a month--Did I miss the missive? The missive? The memorandum. I missed the missive, I moan. She mentions a mulct. How much of a mulct?

"It's a twenty dollar fee for an overdue registration."

Vitriol. From my vantage, it's a voluminous value for a vehicular voucher. I'm very near vehemence as the vulgar vendor, vacant of virtue, verifies my Visa. My Visa is valid, so the vendor veers her visage to the next vexed visitor. Victorious yet victimized, I vacate the venue.

*A gentleman always keeps his cool. However, in order to take advantage of some of the cooler V-words out there, a gentleman reserves the right to take artistic liberties and make himself seem more upset.

If One Must Gossip, 8/9/09

2009-08-08T22:53:00.020-05:00

It is a hot and sticky summer as I lie in my New York apartment to discuss gossip with you, dear readers, over my trusty laptop. It's almost like an episode of Sex and the City, although I do not magically have a six-figure income lifestyle while working for a trash magazine. (I also, if I may say so myself, do not look particularly equine.)

In a semi-related note, I am almost positive that the writer of Sex and the City was making fun of her face purposefully in the "I'm like Barbara Streisand mixed in with a wild horse" ending to this particular episode. The whole comparison starts at 1:53 but the clip establishes the whole context.

Since returning from Silesia, I've been constantly amazed by Jon+Kate's ability to overpower any worthwhile news. Miraculously, I have endured the barrage of pictures of John in Edward Hardy t-shirts and have brought you some tidbits of gab for you to savor:

In the world of people no longer being relevant, James Blunt and his management have denied Weird Al from releasing his version of “You're Beautiful” on any money-making format. (Coolio, anyone?) However, "You're Pitiful" is legally available via YouTube. I won't link it because, in all honesty, the offering is not one of Mr. Yankovic’s greatest hits. It follows in the vein of other classics with lyrics about nerds and the things other people love to tease them about. (Buying a Weird Al CD never seems to make the list in these songs, which, along with owning more than 2 Hawaiian shirts, are the building blocks of nerd-dom.) Mr. Blunt is not known for making the greatest decisions ever, but having Weird Al cover your song, even in today’s age, solidifies that song in history in a way no Billboard ranking can. Frankly, Blunt is an idiot not to realize this.
In the other face of the mirror, kudos to Weird Al for keeping it up, for still churning out bits of amazement for all these years. If I were to aspire to any career other than that of a jet-set gentleman of leisure, it would be to sit down behind an accordion every night to rock the best humorous cover songs the world has ever seen.

Someone decided to ask one Johnny Depp what his dream role would be. Being Johnny Depp, and therefore walking a dangerous line between honest awkwardness and intentional “douche-baggery” under the guise of hating publicity and interviews, Depp claimed that his dream role would be to play Carol Channing. Ladies and Gentlemen, no comment has ever filled me with such terror and such glee at the same time. A gentleman caller once said my hair looked like Carol Channing’s--I was tickled pink until I realized this may have been an insult. In any respect, Ms. Channing is a person that everyone should aspire to be. When reached for comment Channing s aid "It is not a new concept to me. Not at all. Men have been imitating me for as long as I can remember.” Friends, I am taking up a collection to make this movie happen. I am currently in talks with a charming Latino “cholo” who is negotiating the price for my kidneys on the black market. My interest in providing the entire budget for this movie is contingent on the agreement that Tim Burton is not allowed to put his sickening hands anywhere near the project. Say it with me, Ladies and Gentlemen, “RRRaaaaaaaaasssssssbbbbeeerrrrrriiiieeeessss”

Last year, Katy Perry kissed a girl. Apparently she liked it, but now, Lesbians the world over seem to have nothing but spite for the simultaneously over-dressed, under-dressed artist. Beth Ditto, the large, lesbian lead singer of Gossip, has made claims that Perry was “cashing in” on gay culture and cheeky-faux lesbianism. Meanwhile, says Ditto, actual lesbians making similar music are shunned for actually kissing other girls. (Beth Ditto earns our attention because of the fashion world’s strange fascination with her. I’m looking at you, Karl Lagerfield.)

Then, of course, there’s Lilith-era veteran Jill Sobule. Remember her quasi hit from ’95? What was that called again? Oh yeah, “I Kissed a Girl”. (The video is totally worth revisiting, if only for Fabio.) Ms. Sobule has come out swinging against Perry, using language that could be considered… well… barbed. Now my assumption is that Sobule is not sincerely acting out of hatred, but she is certainly justified in calling “BS” on Perry’s claim that the song title came to her “in a dream.” To add insult to injury, Perry’s contract was signed by the same man who signed Sobule 11 years earlier, the same man who decided to make both “I Kissed a Girl”’s lead singles.

You know what? I better make this clear: I swear on my honor as a scholar, a gentleman, and a Waverley-through-my-mother’s-side, that I am not attempting to push Beth Ditto onto my gentle readers. Ms. Ditto just appears to have been popping up at all the right times as of late. Go figure.

In absolutely amazing news, Ryan O’Neil--whose history of emotional damage to his many offspring has Joe Jackson wondering where he could have gone that extra mile--decided to go ahead and add sexual confusion to his familial rap sheet. While loading his recently dead female companion, the great Farrah Fawcett, into the hearse, Ryan turned to Tatum O'Neil, his own daughter, and asked her if she had plans and wanted to grab a drink. Not only would it be insulting not to be recognized by your own father, but Tatum, whose drug & alcohol addiction can be traced back to her childhood, had to feel super-special that Dad was trying to take her out for a drinks. Ryan's son Griffin went on Larry King to update the dirt in the family's laundry, first revealed in 2004 by sister Tatum in a book about how winning the Oscar at the age of 10 ruined her life and made her father hate her, furthering stories about a father getting his children involved in drugs, and detailing Ryan's attack against Griffin and his pregnant wife.
Padre O'Neil, by the way, has been very flippant about the accusations against him. To be fair though, this is what happens when you believe in the moral of "Love Story"

Anna Wintour dazzled the fashion world at the end of July with her knowledge of the basic laws of capitalism. In an effort to aide in the sale of upscale garments to the cash-strapped ladies and gentlemen of the current economic downturn, Ms. Wintour stood up to suggest that a committee be formed in which all major retailers would agree to price cooperation. When it was revealed to her that this action is highly illegal and the basic foundation of Anti-trust laws (see: that episode of King of the Hill about the dangerous world of propane price-fixing), Wintour responded “Is that something we can change? We have friends in the White House now.” There was no official report of the response to her bravado, but 10 minutes later, every other attendee was deceased. The cause of death? “Shock and Utter Disbelief." Among the dead was the extravagant Diane Von Furstenberg, who also pointed out the legal violation to Wintour. We may have lost a prized designer, but as they say in the movies, “We’ll always have the American Express commercial that features that black and white dress you stole from Koto of Project Runway." Dearest Diane will be remembered wherever someone is wearing very flowing print dresses, and each time someone watches the Leprechaun movies.
I sincerely hope, dear friends, that this image won't haunt your dreams.

Tonight, I will leave you with the trailer for a movie that has excited me since I first caught wind of it. The musical "Nine", based on Fellini's "8 1/2", boasts a main cast whose members hold a combined 6 Oscars and 11 nominations. (If you add the supporting leads you get another win and 2 nominations.) While it doesn't come out until November, a gentleman informs you of genius before it happens. For those who are fans of the show 30 Rock, Ms. Jane Krakowski (aka Jenna Maroni) won a Tony for the role that Penelope Cruz will be taking.

I bring this up gentle readers, as I am heading over to Mario Batali's pizzaria to dine with the man himself and a few close friends, hoping as always that Ms. Paltrow will not be among them. I will surely drink too much wine and attempt to get the party to erupt in a chorus of "Be Italian". If you ever have the opportunity to try the restaurant my friends, I suggest the Vongole pizza. Clams never tasted so good!

Maggio il flusso del vino libero ed a buon mercato,
Danny

A Lady Is A Smooth Operator

2009-08-08T13:43:00.004-05:00

The modern lady begins each day with three major obstacles to face: 1) excruciating footwear, 2) inadequate health care, and 3) the existential quandary of life's meaningless pursuit of happiness even in the face of imminent extinction.

Yesterday, these three obstacles collided for me in one large, skin-toned disaster:

A Lady's Instructions For Self-Operation In The Workplace

Symptoms: Fluid-filled nodule protruding from the epidermis

Diagnosis: Papulovesicle, Stage 3 (Blister)

Recommended Treatment: Immediate operation

-You probably haven't got a needle (a lady certainly doesn't sew), so the next most logical instrument to use is the X-Acto Knife. It even looks more like a real scalpel!

-Head to the kitchen and light a burner on the stove. Wave the X-Acto through the flame to sterilize.

-Slip into the bathroom and go to work.

-Afterwards, rummage through the office safety kit for an Ace bandage.

-The kit will not have butterfly clips. Stop looking for them.

-Debate over packing tape and binder fasteners. Settle on small paperclips.

-Hobble back to your workspace.

-Read editorials about health care reform and try to refrain from punching your monitor in the face.

*A lady fixes herself. Then a lady fixes herself a drink.

A Gentleman Can't Be Bought

2009-08-01T23:52:00.005-05:00

Alyssa. I hate having to be stern with you, but if I've told you once, I've told you a thousand times. A gentleman makes his own decisions, no matter how much anti-Irish racism you inject into your blog posts. The internet is for knowledge, entertainment, and to circulate proof that "Karl has a head like a fucking orange," not to corrupt your friends with the seedy influence of New York City.

Integrity separates the gents from the gentlemen.

...That said, I've been working on a merit badge of my own. It's called the "Pummel Glenn Beck in an Unfair Fistfight" badge. Now, if you can guarantee that G.B. will be there Labor Day weekend, and that he won't be wearing a cup, I might just be tempted to plan a quick visit.

*A gentleman can't be bought, but he might be bartered with.

A Lady Is Convincing

2009-07-29T20:21:00.004-05:00

Thank you Danny for that thoroughly instructive post. I am already planning my own play list for when I am a celebrity. I've even picked out the first song.

Friends, have you ever tried to convince someone to do something? It is not easy. Especially when that someone is a stubborn young gentleman.

See, last year I enrolled myself in Night Scouts (think continuing education for the adult scouting community of NYC) and I've earned all but one of the merit badges, which I've pinned to my official Night Scouts fedora. There was the MTA badge, where I had to wait for the G train for 24 hours straight without crying. Then there was the Pigeon Study badge, which I received for collecting three splatter specimens on one outfit. And of course there was the obligatory Urban Guide badge which I earned automatically by ascending the Empire State building, visitors in tow, for the 17th time in one month.

But I have just one badge left to earn and it goes right in the front of my fedora so there's no covering it up. It's the Convince An Irish-American Gentleman To Celebrate Labor Day In New York badge. You wouldn't believe how difficult that is to do! I've sent out Facebook invites to every group that sounds even vaguely Mickish and I've friend requested all the O'Surnames on MySpace. I even passed out fliers at pubs and McDonald's! But no one has responded.

As both a lady and a Night Scout, I am determined to complete this mission so I can attend this year's Night Scout Badgeuation ceremony and wear my fully-decorated fedora to brunch on Sundays.

*A lady persists. She uses her skills in rhetoric and logic to convince others. She also promises there will be whiskey.

If One Must Gossip, 7/23/09

2009-07-23T17:46:00.018-05:00

A Gentleman Grieves with Laughter, Love, and Lots of Links

Ladies and Gentlemen, I have been bereaved of late. With the passing of so many friends, I have been unable to attend many social gatherings due to my intense pain and have therefore been behind in the gossip times. In my grief I let my hair feather, wore one glove around the house at all times, and took to following around a man who, to be frank dear readers, looked a hell of a lot like Johnny Carson after a few rounds, laughing at everything he said. Once the restraining order took effect, I realized I had to find a new way to deal with my sorrow and have since retreated to my family's estate in Upper Silesia. After some time alone with “The Burning Bed” and HIStory, it was time for me to move on to a wider variety of music. I decided to consult other famous, well-to-do people such as myself to see what they were listening to... and this is how I entered the fabulous world of the iTunes Celebrity Playlist*

After consulting many examples and compiling data, I have found an interesting set of rules that everyone seems to silently abide by when making his or her playlist. I decided to create my own playlist and, in doing so, distilled the 5 commandments of a successful iTunes Celebrity Playlist*.

a gentleman admits he hasn't seen much of the sun recently

Commandment the First: Thou shalt represent thy people. In today's world of political correctness, if you do not represent your race then you are a failure to your people. This is not just for our African American and Latino brethren, but any race. In fact, if you can't give at least two songs to your people then you are almost a traitor. You would think that one cannot make a playlist almost entirely out of Polynesian performers, but Tia Carrere is has finally clawed her way out of 1995 in order to prove you wrong. Nicole Kidman (who has, over the last two years, attempted to reclaim her Australian roots after realizing that her nightmare of being married to a troll and having children who despise her wasn't a dream but in fact her life) even made sure to dedicate ample space for those of Australian persuasion.

Commandment the Second: Thou shalt plug thy project. This rule is of the utmost importance, as the reason one is usually allowed to give a playlist to iTunes is to plug a certain project. Steve Martin's playlist, which was just entered and called to my attention by Pavel Jsme Jebavý (the absolutely wonderful traveling companion I procured for my time here), is entirely banjo music, which coincides with his latest project... (drumroll) ...a CD of banjo music. Meanwhile, Slumdog Millionaire's delightful little cast and director all make sure to include M.I.A. in their mixes. Of course, this rule is delicate and may even prove treacherous, as the director of Adventureland found. His playlist consists almost entirely of bands featured on the soundtrack to his movie. However, in an effort to make sure he didn't copy and paste, he indelicately scrolled around for a different song by the same artist and essentially created a variation on the movie's soundtrack. This, in the end, appears to the informed viewer as both unnecessarily complicated and cheaply easy at the same time.

Commandment the Third: Thou shalt not make a greatest hits compilation.
Gentle readers, this is a mistake in so many ways. To begin with, a personal top favorite list is not something you give away lightly. Behind honor and personal banking records, a top favorite songs list is to be the most protected possession of a lady or gentleman. One does not give it away like some floozy in Cheap side on a Friday to the first man with a velvet cape. Efforts at this often seem heavily swayed toward one genre and therefore destroy the casual frivolity and joy that is in the iTunes Celebrity Playlist*, with it’s myriad of genres and tempos. However, Patrick Wilson, star of Watchmen and of this gentleman’s dreams since his first saw Angels in America, somehow beat this curse through a strange mixture of old-time southern country and music of the 1980's/90’s hair metal experience, with a few other standards (Prince, Jimmy Buffet). His observations on Extreme, who as he believes could have been known as an amazing metal band had they not chosen "More than Words" as their first and only relevant single, is proof of an actual devotion to both the band and genre. His mix makes me want to go to a karaoke bar with him and Holly Hunter (who has a diverse albeit somewhat depressing collection.) I wouldn't even be offended if Wilson declined my offer to return to my home afterwords (a gentleman or lady does not take the advice of Usher.)

Commandment the Fourth: Thou shalt get by with a little help from thy friends. As any gracious celebrity knows, a musical nod to friends and loved ones adds to your karmic publicity points and keeps away your scandals (If you don't believe me ladies and gentlemen, then attempt to explain how Hugh Grant remained one of the greatest romantic comedy leads ever without anyone rehashing the fact he paid to cheat on Elizabeth Hurley with this.) Mandy Moore deftly proves herself a master in this situation. She starts with a sweet song by her husband and mentions that she could make a whole playlist of his but gracefully only puts the one song on, as not to beat us over the head with it. On the other hand, Ana Ortiz, who I personally adore, failed miserably by including two of her husband's unknown band's songs, saying that one of them makes "the crowd go wild" when the song is a ballad. Also on the offenders list are Dina and Ali Lohan for both putting "Bossy" by Lindsey Lohan on their lists. (Dinah even offered up some of Ali's drivel that even Ali was smart enough to keep hidden.) And we can't quite forgive Beyonce for pretending that she thinks Solange is just a random talented singer and songwriter and not, in fact, her sister.

Mandy (or Mrs. Ryan Adams if you're proper) also gives a nod to friends Ben Lee, Rachel Yamagata and Mike Viola. All include minor stories of the friendship but focus more so on the musician’s talent. Christian Siriano, seen terrorizing cameras near any runway he graces, utterly failed according to Commandment the Fourth. His disgustingly faux pop techno-heavy mix that makes the dandy in me sob is full of entries that are used not to showcase the talent of the act, but instead for Siriano to flaunt his acquaintance with Mr. and Mrs. Seal and note the fact that he attended the America Music Awards... which, to be honest, who hasn't?

Commandment the Fifth: Thou shalt pretend to be cooler than the masses.
Subsection A. Thou shalt be Old School. To fufil this requirement, you must have at least one song by a so-called underappreciated male singer-songwriter that primarily recorded in the 70s and early 80s. Leonard Cohen, Van Morrison and Tom Waits are the odds-on favorites at Monte Carlo and Casino Estoril (which, after a few calls, I discovered holds bets on which "old man of the sea" will be on the newest playlist up until the minute it is released). Others such as Lou Reed, Jeff Buckley and Todd Rundgren also show up to bring the more adventurous bidders a good day. There appears to be a small gathering of female who are trying to submit female 70's singer songwriters, but it sadly does not seems to be catching up for these ladies.

Subsection B. Thou Shalt be New School. In order for one to truly assert relevance, one must also be ahead of the times regarding the music of today. For example, are we really supposed to believe that Dylan McDermott, Kate Hudson, Danny Boyle, and Beyonce love MGMT enough to mention them out of all the bands in the world? No. But do I believe that everyone has heard that MGMT is going to blow up to astronomical proportions? Yes. Jason Jones of the Daily Show, who definitely did some research before making his celebrity playlist, even admitted that he added MGMT because “a hipster told me putting this on would make me more hip." Go more than 3 months back and you’ll notice that Kings of Leon is everyone's favorite band. The best instance of New School comes courtesy of Jeffery Dean Morgan, who played the Comedian in Watchman. Morgan admitted to using "Sex on Fire" because it was an inside joke--one can only assume he’s referring to the most awkward sex scene ever created. (!) A gentleman reminds you that this link is Not Safe for Polite Company. (!)

Other bands that belong in this category include Fleet Foxes, Bon Iver, Ray Lamontagne (who is mysteriously absent from Kelly Clarkston's list even though she loves covering him) and, to my surprise, Antony and the Johnsons.

There are a few other rules that may or may not gain footing as the months go on and the playlist commandments evolve. (Caucasian ladies needing a song written by a primarily nineties "man-hating" singer-songwriter in the vein of Fiona Apple or Ani Difranco.) The category of Gentlemen who prefer Gentlemen and Ladies who prefer Ladies are also attempting to make a "represent thy people" push, but it does not seem to be going well since, as a community, they are not always known for playing nice with eachother and are therefore having a hard time gaining a following beyond a few recognizable acts (and a gentlegay thinks the obvious answer is the combination of strong-empowered lesbian with dance songs and a sassy lead persona that is Gossip.) Lastly, there also appears to be a growth in an "I saw them live in an intimate and/or selective setting and fell in love with them" trend, which gives the celebrity more of a personal connection to the music and makes the purchaser assume the celebrity is low-key and attends those kind of functions regularly. Right.

Having taken all this dogma into account, I have finally finished my own iTunes Celebrity Playlist. There is plenty of anger and hurt, but there is also joy and happiness contained within these 16 songs soon to be available collectively for the low, low price of $9.99. With this accomplishment, I have finally beat the days of sadness and tears. I am ready to frolic in the fields again with Pavel before returning stateside to begin a gossip life anew.

Danny

1. Hallucinations - The Raveonettes
A gentleman just saw them live at Siren Festival. I have my own live recording but the song quality is substandard. Their love/musical breakdown is like a crashing wave, beserker.

2. Pale Bride - The Von Bondies
Thou shalt represent they people. Love to Detroit.

3. Al Stewart - Year of the Cat
Thou shalt be Old School.

4. Runs in the Family - Amanda Palmer
The singer/songwriter of Dresden Dolls puts out her own album produced by Ben Folds which is essentially Dresden Dolls with better production. Thanks, Ben Folds. I almost used "Ampersand" but I have enough slow songs on this mix.

5. Fistful of Love - Antony and the Johnsons
Thou shalt be New School.

6. Strange Overtones - David Byrne and Brian Eno
Saw them at a free concert in prospect park. A throwback vibe that is self aware, on top of the fact that these men are living gods.

7. O Soave Fanciulla - From Puccini's La Boheme
A gentleman admits he might listen to this song a tad too much. In the same way he may or may not have seen Moonstruck too many times, were that only possible.

8. Adirondack Amish Holler - Frontier Ruckus
Thou shalt pimp they friends, or in this case, former classmates with whom thy is on good terms.

9. Lawyers, Guns and Money - Warren Zevon
Thou shalt be Old School, with a bonus "Pimp Thy Project" thrown in there. A gentlemen is now in the business of personal injury litigation.

10. Guilty - Projekt Hex
Saw them in a subway station after a night of flight and fancy and bought their album. Awesome depression-era ukulele music.

11. Are you that somebody - Gossip
Thou shalt represent they people (the gays).

12. Showbiz Kids - Ricki Lee Jones
A cover of Steeley Dan that makes you feel like you're in a bar full of smoke, a setting I've missed since moving to New York. She's also an underappreciated 70s female. She also famously dated Tom Waits.

13. Transliterator - Devotchka
My sister is moving to Denver. This is a great Denver band.

14. With Every Heartbeat - Robyn
The video is particularly hilarious, since she's singing for the Nobel Prize Committee and recipients.

15. Wuthering Heights - Kate Bush
The official theme song of free concerts in Brooklyn, at least for anyone who matters**.

16. Who's Loving You - The Jackson Five
A gentleperson thinks that, on top of all the crazy, Michael Jackson was self-aware about his depraved weirdo public image and recorded this song to show that he already knew how the world would feel at his death.

* Possibly trademarked. A gentleman fears trademark litigation with omnipotent companies.
** Official theme song of Summer would be "Picture of Love", but the internet is determined to prevent my sharing it with you... best of luck finding it on your own!

A Gentleman Is A Georgia Peach

2009-07-15T13:14:00.011-05:00

A gentleman never takes a vacation. His sense of duty is too strong. Yes Pinch, I enjoyed my time in the South--thanks for asking--but any adventure is only as successful as the blog post that follows it. That said, if any of our readers ever plan to venture below the Mason-Dixon, they would do well to pay close attention to my advice. I will dispense this advice... now.

When traveling down the highway, any Chick-fil-a is always three exits farther than your stomach will want to travel. Do not let your stomach be the boss of you.

Listen to college radio in Atlanta. A stammering student DJ is infinitely more charming with a gentle southern drawl.

Your "Obama/Biden '08" bumper sticker carries more weight down there. It's just does. (Corollary: Your "Marraige = Man + Woman" sticker will mean next to nothing.)

Never pass up an opportunity to visit a traveling carnival. You might see a demolition derby or, if you're lucky, a semi-truck tug o' war.

Obey the law. I simply cannot overemphasize this.

If it's hot outside--(and it's going to be hot outside, Yankee)--a linen shirt feels awfully comfortable. While you're at it, you could probably get away with a straw fedora. Just don't overdo it.

Spend some time in Savannah, GA. Before you get there, learn to recognize the song "Melissa" by The Allman Brothers Band. It's going to come up.

There are snow cone flavors that you haven't tried yet.

Once you buy your linen shirt and straw hat, you're going to be looking good. Don't ruin it by holding a cell phone all the time.

I don't care who you are. You haven't really seen a city until you've seen it's gay district.

Don't bother trying to find Mark Sanford in the Appalachian Mountains--we already looked.

Wear sunscreen.

*A gentleman is proud of his heritage. Some readers might be incredulous, but I promise you: I am every bit as southern as Barack Obama is Hawaiian.

A Lady Has Got To See The World

2009-07-13T22:55:00.001-05:00

Ah, Patrick, and how was your tour of the Southern States? I believe it is vital for a young gentleman to explore his country, and beyond! It's important for ladies, too. That's why I'm officially announcing my upcoming journey into a wild, largely unexplored patch of our country--so remote, so exotic, I'm not even sure what its designated state bird is!

Friends, readers: I am going to Delaware.

Yes, I know, and without travel insurance! But I have had my inoculations (and those pesky boosters) and will be all set to brave any of the uncharted wildlife I'm sure to encounter during my week there.

Now please don't worry about me while I'm gone. You see, I've just got to get out there and meet more of the people, the cultures, the outdoor strip malls of this world. As Patrick can attest to, I'm sure, it's only through forcing oneself into the unknown bits of the world that a lady (or gentleman) can find herself--

[Apologies. Cat on keyboard.]

Ahem--can find herself dining in a chain restaurant that her home town didn't even have (see Sonic)!

It's true, traveling is all about discovering those strange and beautiful cultural differences that reveal a unifying reality about humanity at its core. Many of these revelations can be had by discerning whether or not a region's chain restaurants offer fountain cherry coke or not.

*A lady was just kidding. Everybody knows Delaware's state bird is that mighty and ferocious fowl, the blue hen chicken.

A Gentleman Listens. Really Listens.

2009-07-01T12:51:00.009-05:00

Hey guys, sorry I've been away for a while. I came back from a bit of a road trip to find my mailbox even more stuffed than usual, so I thought I'd take this opportunity to respond to a few readers at once. Enjoy!

Dear Patrick,

I'm a thirty-nine year old store owner with a lovely wife and our two children. I've legally owned a Springfield M1A rifle since 1991. Because of it's manufacture date, my ownership was still permitted under the Assault Weapons Ban of 1994.
I should mention that I never use and hardly ever see the thing. Before the birth of my first child, I invested in a top-of-the-line firearms safe, which only I know the combination to. Nevertheless, I'm almost embarrassed to confess that, yes, I do feel safer knowing I have access to a gun. Paranoid? Perhaps. But I've owned one for nearly twenty years and I've simply grown accustomed to having it around.
My concern is, should any new gun control legislation be passed in the near future, that a ban would be retroactive, that congress would almost literally "take away" my M1A. I have always admired this website for your diligent, non-biased reporting. I hope that you'll keep me up-to-date on any developments with this controversial issue.

Dave
Martinsdale, MT

Dear Patrick,

I have always been a good worker. Though I've switched careers a few times (sales and HR, mostly), I've only ever received glowing references from my employers. People who work with me understand how much effort I put into my projects and how personally I take it when I don't feel useful. But my town has changed in the last few years. It's hard enough to get a job right now, and I really do hate to say it, but poor immigration enforcement is just not helping the situation.
Now I am far from xenophobic, I promise. In fact my biggest fear in making this argument is that people will label me that way. But the fact is I am a man who is accustomed to going to work. I don't care what job I do as long as it's honest and I get paid an honest wage. I think that's a modest request of the country I love so much, but it seems more and more like a fantasy every day.

Henry
Tuscon, AZ

Dear Patrick

I love my wife and she loves me right back. You could say we've grown accustomed to that love. For twenty-five years, we've lived in the same house, cooking for each other and watching videos on the same, old eighteen-inch television.
I've been watching the news a lot lately. Frankly, I enjoy the videos more, but the politics of the day seem pretty important. Looks like a couple of states have said "OK" to gay marriage and, to be honest, I'm a little anxious about the whole thing
My wife and I are peaceful souls (especially my wife). We want what's best for everybody, and we would never want to deny another man his God given rights. I guess I'm just worried about the details. Will reverse-discrimination allow gay couples to earn better benefits than my family? If my wife and I choose to adopt a child, would there suddenly be a whole bunch of new parents to compete with? Would the homosexual-controlled government kidnap my wife in the middle of the night and replace her with a man? Any reassurance you could give me would be greatly appreciated. Thank you.

Garrett
Boston, MA

Gentleman,

Thank you for writing, for sharing your feelings. Even though we may disagree on some issues, I'm glad to know your stories, to better understand your points of view. And I do understand: none of you are going out of your way to cause problems for other people. You're just protecting the way of life you are used to. Dave's had his gun for twenty years. Henry's had a job for forty. Garrett's been married for twenty-five years and he wants to maintain the life he's worked for. Don't ever let anyone reduce you to talking points. You're real people with real concerns for real reasons--if you've grown accustomed to your gun, your work, or your wife, I can completely understand why you're worried about the government taking your gun, your work, or your wife. I'll do my best to keep you posted on any of these issues and more.

Best of luck in your honest lives,
Patrick

*A gentleman protects his possessions, like his gun or his wife, when they are threatened.

A Lady Applies Herself

2009-06-18T18:42:00.004-05:00

Previously on Ladies Ampersand Gentlemen...

Many apologies for the lag in posts, friends, but lately I have been busy writing for a much different audience--those bitter brothers, the Resume and Cover Letter.

Now writing a resume isn't actually all that difficult, but once you list all of your work experience on a single page (and reformat twenty times so that it actually fits onto a single page), you begin to notice certain patterns, or lack thereof, in the professional decisions you've made. As an example of this phenomenon, I'd like to provide you with a brief overview of the patterns that would likely arise were I to compose the Grandmaster List of all jobs I've held up to this point in time:

Kids

Food

Sweaty People Indoors

Sweaty People's Kids Outdoors

Sweaty Kids Outdoors

Books

Food

Books

Kids

Food In Cars

Books

Bananas

Really Short Sweaty Kids Indoors

Onions

Then there's the Cover Letter--that elusive bird whose mating call sounds less like an enticing melody and more like a desperate squawk: HIre meee! HIre meeeEE! Rather than waste all of my time writing, tweaking, and re-writing these obnoxious things for each individual job, I think I'll just compose an Open Cover Letter from Me to The World of Employment.

To Whom It May Concern:

I am very interested in the position as advertised on Craigslist/Mediabistro/Edjobs/the bulletin board outside the Food Mart. As a lady, I believe I possess all of the qualities necessary to perform the duties required of this job. With my experience as a dishwasher/delivery driver/part-time carny/poetry editor/tennis instructor/banana stand operator/editorial intern, I am confident that not only will I be able to handle any challenges that may arise, but I will meet them head-on with a smile, a curtsy, and a punch to the face that clearly states "Challenges: 0, Your Newest Employee: 1."

Thank you for your time and consideration. I look forward to hearing from you very soon.

Sincerely,

Pinch

*A lady is great in interviews. She wears less-wrinkled clothing and audibly clears her throat when she needs more time to answer questions such as "Where do you see yourself in the next ten years?"

A Gentleman Enjoys Symmetry Now and Again (& Again)

2009-05-31T15:00:00.016-05:00

Remember when Alyssa went green, so then I had to go green? Remember when Alyssa got a ghost, so I had to get an alien? Oh, and then there was the time Alyssa got abducted by pirates, so I had to get abducted by pirates. That was a good one.

Well, I was reading Alyssa's post the other day and was surprised to discover that she had left her job. (Whenever possible, I like to read Pinch's columns with a 10-day time delay, so she has the opportunity to fix any typos.) Naturally, as soon as I read the news, I walked right into the office of the ******* Educational Publishing Company and turned in my badge and gun. Solidarity!

Now what does this mean for Ladies Amp, you ask? I know what you're thinking and I'm five-and-seven-and-five steps ahead of you.

REVISED EMPLOYMENT HAIKU

Gentleman seeks work
Reason for leaving last job:
Alyssa left hers

*A gentleman is not a follower, just a good friend. Incidentally, a gentleman is good friends with Craig.

If One Must Gossip, 5/29/09

2009-05-29T08:28:00.005-05:00

Another week has gone by, gentle reader, and between taking in the newest installments in the Metropolitan Museum of Art (a hint, dear friends: skip the Model as Muse exhibit and attend the Bacon retrospective on a day when they common masses are not polluting your viewer pleasure by crowding each photograph with gaping mouths) and having the honor of viewing a great meeting of minds, I have taken it upon myself to assemble another cheat sheet to the whos, whats, whens, and wheres of the week, so that you may not find yourself suddenly without topic during conversation. Such as one Charles Allamange did when introduced to Madame Grand. Due to some small skill I was able to learn from my childhood summers in Venice, I was able to jot down a quick sketch of her reaction to his sad attempt at conversation.

Esteemed actor and avid opponent of candid photography Sean Penn has rescinded his declaration of freedom by dismissing his petition for divorce from his wife, Robin Wright Penn. This marks the second time in three years that the Penns have proceeded with a divorce and subsequently changed their minds (a move known among drawing rooms in the South as "The Catholic Shuffle"). Sources very close to myself have revealed, during a soiree over a few bowls of a most delightful gin spirit, that the relationship has been rockier than the state of British Raj, as Sean realized that Robin may have been a quick fix to fill the hole left by his abandonment of religious idolatry but was unfortunately entangled by the news of a little Penn before he could express his true feelings. Just goes to show you, ladies & gentlemen, that while violence, even metaphoric violence like the shotgun wedding, never solves an issue for good.

Just as the sometimes brash Alec Baldwin, whose scandalous voicemail to his daughter everyone was just finally forgetting, is now banned from visiting the Philippines after a small joke about procuring a Filipino mail order bride. In the interest of full disclosure, I also am banned from entering the country and I sympathize with Mr. Baldwin. During an charity event, I attempted to correct the Filipino Ambassador at the time, Benjamin Romualdez, about the origins of the dish pepper steak. After a heated exchange over the validity of his mother as a source, I proclaimed that only a nation of imbeciles would use the yo-yo as an example of their inventiveness, let alone as a weapon, and that the island's main achievement was in succeeding to be so sufficiently awful that the majority of the medical professionals run to the West as soon as they can. Needless to say I was promptly hit in the head with a yo-yo the ambassador had concealed from security and have washed my hands of the nation since. However, if history is any example, Alec will be welcomed back soon, as Imelda Marcos spent the entire nation's GDP on shoes and chunky necklaces as part of a 20 year regime, and was only ousted from the country for seven years or so.

In art news, every freshly engaged couple who only wished they could find a photographer who was as good as Annie Leibovitz (who, being one of the two photographers they know by name, is a better choice than the alternative, Anne Geddes) may now have their wish. Ms. Liebovitz has been struggling under the strain of unpaid bills due to a disastrous housing renovation. While Ms Liebovitz was able to overcome her short-term problems by signing away the rights to all of her work she has done or will ever do, ever, she now faces lawsuits from debt collectors who have been waiting in the wings, who are tired of waiting and are prepared to cause Ms. Liebovitz to undergo the ghastly process of filing for bankruptcy.

Lastly, While some Parliament Members, Society Mavens, Journalistic Bastians, and myself have been down on the whole concept of Twitter as of late, the website has discovered a way in which to redeem themselves. Faced with the problem of having to spend her says in the hospital for what her people have called a "routine check-up" tha,t for some reason, involves a few nights' stay, Dame Elizabeth Taylor has boarded the Twitter coach and is glamorously giving us tidbits of her personal life. While this contributor of Ladies Ampersand Gentlemen still encourages you to avoid the demon-website's advances and to engage in proper conversation in person or by polite 12 page, quill-written epistles when unable to meet one's partner in person, I will be checking Dame Taylor's Twitter periodically for such gems as "When in Rome, check out my jewels at the Bulgari retrospective at Il Palazzo delle Esposizioni, the brand's first in 125 years." "Also in People this week, my jewelry is on display at Cartier in NYC this month to celebrate their 100th anniversary in America." and "Just saw 'Twilight' on DVD. I want more!" For those interested, I am currently planning a Twilight viewing party with White Diamonds herself.

I am now off to board a private plane leaving LaGuardia at 1:45 for Monaco. I have private brunch date with Albert II, or Albie as I know him, and I will drink Bloody Marys off the West balcony and discuss a new plan for the World Music Awards in an effort to make them both prestigious and not terribly boring. I will make sure my first missive upon arrival home will be to you, my dear friends,

Ta-
Danny

A Lady Is Filmed In Front Of A Live Studio Audience

2009-05-28T21:20:00.008-05:00

Patch, with all of our new friends stopping by to say hello, L&G is becoming more and more like a hit television show. I mean, we've got the film nerd and the gossip nerd and the lady nerd and the gentleman nerd. All we're missing from this sure-fire formula is a killer theme song--a relatively short piece of music that gets straight to the heart of L&G, and straight to the art of audio marketing. That's right, all we need now is a catchy opening theme song and a wacky-but-lovable Mediterranean third-cousin.

When preparing to compose a theme song, there are a number of approaches to consider. There's the narrative method, complete with character background and story set-up. Or there's always the instrumental intro--jazzy, intriguing, and ultimately magnetic. Perhaps a mixture of the two. And then, sometime during our third season of blogging, we could switch to an acoustic version of the theme, or perhaps a zither-and-harpsichord rendition--depending on the zeitgeist of course.

*A lady knows how to make an entrance.

If One Must Gossip, 5/20/09

2009-05-20T17:36:00.011-05:00

*Please enjoy the following pop culture commentary from our newest guest columnist. Whatever he might claim, rest assured that Danny is sharing his insights with you as part of his court-ordered community service. We hope you learn from his quiet wisdom and that you open all hyperlinks in a separate window. -L&G

While retiring to my chic chaise for an evening of staying up to reset my circadian rhythms, which one is want to do when one has such a busy social calender as myself, I received an invitation to--if I could fit it in my busy schedule of taking in some local spirits at the classiest of establishments and artfully maneuvering my way through the business world--help the fine purveyors of this blog with with social needs. While dear Mr and Ms Ampersand can take you through how to behave in a social setting, it shall fall upon Scott and myself to supply you with what to discuss once you get there. I hope to be able to come to your aid throughout the week to give you the knowledge for polite conversation of current issues, but not so current as to appear crass and one of the sad denizens of the Internet who frantically reload their favorite institutions of information. Be forewarned: only people of merit who have preformed an action that deems them worthy of the honor that comes with being featured in the annals of Ladies Ampersand Gentlemen shall be discussed.

Someone who could use a good peek at our dear blog is one Gwyneth Paltrow. In her quest to be the classiest of ladies she has instead confused the idea of class with, how does one put this politely, being an arrogant bitch? Thankfully the good people at Daily Intel had time to take to note some of her previous offenses. She is been recently making headlines with her newest targets: fat people and Scarlet Johanson. We'll take these on one at a time:

1) Gwyneth, most likely in a way to promote her new lifestyle website with the unfortunate name "GOOP" and her chain of gyms that are rumored to be failing before they even open, wishes to have a "intervention" for her only elephantine friend, Mario Batali. I'm sure he won't be insulted when you propose he uses some of your recipes like "Burnt to a crisp Bruschetta with no toppings", "Bowl of raw artichokes with a lemon wedge" and "Piece of zucchini with a cherry tomato", instead of the recipes that made him a world-renowned chef. If there is one thing that a person who has devoted his life to the cultivation of an art form wants, it's to be told he is doing it wrong by an amateur.

2) According to the Sun, Gwyneth is not happy that Scarlett Johanson is on the set of Iron Man II. While it is obvious that the Sun has chosen a side by the fact that Scarlett looks like something a gentlemen (or a lady, be she into that kind of thing) might have procured on Craigslist before they removed the "erotic services channel", it is interesting to note the problems she has with her. Sources say that Scarlett is "demanding of the crew" and "[Scarlett and Gwyneth]..have not developed a close friendship on the shoot" Apparently her grievance is that Scarlett is working and, to quote the classy people of reality t.v. "not here to make friends" and takes the crew away from listening to Gwyneth's demands. I am going to go out on a limb and say that Scarlett disagreed with Gwyneth on the idea that a jumpsuit is one of the 5 things every woman needs and Gwyn took offense.

While the Newspaper slowly dies, a discussion has slowly been gaining speed around cigar and tea parlors alike that while you may be able to get all your news via Internet blogs, it might not be such a good idea to trust the masses with such power. While literacy and proper training kept the unruly masses from overtaking the news of the past, Twitter is demonstrating time and time again that the Internet is no safe place in which to be out and unprotected. Its most recent victim was Patrick Swayze. After a radio station in Jacksonville, FL. claimed him to have departed this mortal coil, Twitter spread the news like wildfire to the point where his representation had to refute the claim. Had the proper barriers been in place, reporters would have realized the news to be false since they would realize that a Jacksonville morning radio "host" is just a man with a communications degree from a local community college.

As the economy claims another victim, Paulina Porizkova has been ungraciously removed from her seat at the judging table on America's Next Top Model, by phone, on her birthday. ANTM scholar Rich Juzwiak has been chronicling her tirade against Tyra Banks (a gentleman lets the easy pun pass by, but comments on its existence lest he be thought dim to not see it). Paulina, unlike the judges before her, is not taking the loss lightly and is giving weight to the rumors of polite society that Tyra Banks is, in all reality, a alien creature that feeds on your attention.

Television stations have for the most part announced their fall line ups. While some babes fell to the great plague known as "the Recession" (Kings, Terminator-The Sarah Connor Chronicles) and other shows which have seen their glory go by are sent, like the great French Lords and Ladies before them, to the guillotine (Prison Break, Samantha Who, King of the Hill, The Unit). Like Napoleon before her, Ugly Betty, having failed to regain its former glory, is being banished to the Saint Helena of television- a Friday night time slot. Other shows are tactfully attempting a repatriation into other networks since they were cut for no apparent reason, having performed better than the shows that have been assured a spot in the fall line up. Among these shows: Medium, starring Patricia Arquette of the Motherfucking Crazy Arquettes, and My Name is Earl. A full list of those renewed and deceased is provided.

To end, I provide you with the first edition of Classy People in Classy Places. I came across David Hyde Pierce speaking at the Broadway Impact Gay Marriage Rally on Sunday. In true form, he did not disappoint with his timeless wit. Truly, only a gentlemen can pull off speaking at a political rally without feeling to need to raise his voice.

Till we find ourselves again in a dark corner of the room,
four punch glasses into the night,

Danny

A Gentleman's Epistle to RNC Chairman Michael Steele

2009-05-19T16:23:00.016-05:00

Chairman Steele,

This afternoon, I had the pleasure of witnessing your speech to the Republican National Committee. Unlike some self-styled Republican luminaries--Sarah Palin, who speaks to hockey moms, or Bobby Jindal, who speaks to five-year-olds--I really feel like you spoke to me as a gentleman. Your forthright approach (and undeniable flair) truly inspire me to reevaluate my feelings towards the beleaguered GOP.

Regarding your call for "class" and "dignity" in mainstream politics, can I just say one thing? Finally. For almost a decade, Democrats have unambitiously rooted themselves in the same tired pattern of acknowledging Republican mistakes. Sure they screwed up a bit, but why state the obvious? In classy America, we don't call the fat kid fat. That cruel use of accuracy only drags us all down. But you, Mr. Steele, seem uniquely capable of ushering in a new American discussion, forged in common goals and tempered with respect. Also, I love how you called out Pelosi.

I think what I like best about you, sir, is the way you make politics accessible for the everyday gentleperson. I'm embarrassed to admit it, but I sometimes find myself a bit overwhelmed by the white noise of pop culture propaganda (pop-o-ganda). I just get so caught up in the spin of liberal pundits and the internet (spin-ternet). You, on the other hand, always tell it to me straight, as evidenced today by your honest, clear-headed assessment of our nation's new Commander-in-Chief. You were gracious in acknowledging his strengths: his hot family, his charm, and his commitment to reducing carbon emissions/education for Hispanic children. However, you were also civil and sober in your criticisms, focusing more on statistics, less on the way he made fun of you at the Correspondents' Dinner.

Can I confess something? I may be sticking my neck out on this one, but I'm worried the Republicans might be suffering through a crisis of identity. I honestly think some of them just don't know what their jobs are. Some men are born to be thinkers, to craft the solutions for our nation's problems. Others are meant for the spotlight, to encourage and inspire, to stay on message, all with a wide berth from any actual decision-making. Many of your colleagues aspire to the spotlight, when they might better serve their country in a meeting somewhere, perhaps creating actual policy. Only you, Michael Steele, know exactly where you belong: on TV and out of those meetings. Do you even own a pen? I sincerely hope not.

Okay. I think I've gushed enough. I wish you all the best as you lead your party into the "Republican Renaissance". Your critics may be louder than ever, but if you stick to your ideals, your patriotism, and your choice puns, I know you'll pull through in the end. ("Obama's reign of error?" Well done, indeed.) Good luck with the remainder of your tenure. I wholeheartedly look forward to the results you achieve over the next month and a half.

Sincerely,
Patrick DeLoach
Professional Honeymoon Scheduler
Chicago, IL

*A gentleman can never overuse a good line.

A Lady Enjoys A Break Now and Again (& Again)

2009-05-17T20:07:00.006-05:00

First off, welcome Scott! Thank you for that insightful, classy review--we look forward to many more.

In other news, Ladies and Gentlemen: I again find myself on the verge of being partially unemployed.

Ladies and Gentlemen: Hooray!

I mean, what lady doesn't love eating generic-brand cereal for all two meals a day and stealing rolls of toilet paper from public restrooms? And aside from enjoying all the benefits of making very little money, a lady can take this extra time to pursue her favorite hobbies like napping, playing online Scrabble and cat-observing.

You know, the more I think about it--I may as well call this looming onset of unscheduled time what it almost sort of is: Early retirement. (Hear that, Dad? I beat you to it!)

So one week from now, I will begin my early part-time retirement. What does this mean, exactly? You can expect to hear more grumbling, more often. That's right--you can expect updates about my latest coupon capers and desperate scourings of Craigslist at 3 AM, as well as detailed accounts of my recurring nightmare featuring a flock of enormous flying Kindles. In other words, you can expect me to behave the way I always behave--like a lady with a little too much time on her hands.

*A lady takes frequent and necessary breaks from her work and she calls them whatever she wants: "Extended Coffee Breaks," "Personal Month," "Maternity Leave," "Early Retirement," or "YouTube Tuesdays."

Double-Classy Film Review: The Burrowers

2009-05-11T17:23:00.012-05:00

Hello, ladies and gentlemen! I hope this fine May day finds you in good health and pompous spirits. It is occasionally acceptable to take one's ego on parade in much the same manner that my mother walks her dog, so I say: parade on! Incidentally, my dog will be apologizing to the general public this afternoon for last week's incident during Cinco De Mayo...Dios mio!

I wanted to take a moment to alert you to a growing trend in our beloved film industry: direct-to-DVD. Direct-to-DVD used to be synonymous with porn and/or films starring Cuba Gooding Jr, but much has changed since April 2009. Oh, some of them still star Cuba Gooding Jr., but some of them feature seasoned actors like Clancy Brown and Doug Hutchinson; some of them feature high-concept storylines and remarkable production values; some of them will knock your fucking socks off.

Pardon my French, dear readers.

The Burrowers will knock your fucking socks off.

The Burrowers is a remarkable meshing of genres, a full-throttle western weened on monster movies and Southern gothica that's as inventive and sharp as anything you're like to see this year. It was financed by Lionsgate, blessed with a successful festival run and left to die because studio-heads found it unmarketable. These titans of industry used the money they would've spent on The Burrowers to finance Saw VI, which will likely feature severed genitals, boobies and the reanimation of Bea Arthur. Classy!

So don't be fooled by it's eighties-heavy-metal cover art*, dear reader: The Burrowers is worth your time. It's the story of a young Irish farmhand named Coffey (played with remarkable reserve by Karl Gearty) whose lass is taken in the night, leaving a trail of blood in her wake. Our farmhand assumes that Injuns are responsible (Classy!) and rounds up the community's finest to find his missing love, a cadre that includes a pastor (the previously mentioned Clancy Brown) and a former gunslinger (William Mapother, of "Lost" fame). They assume they're up to the task. They assume wrong.

Assuming makes fools out of you and me often in The Burrowers: characters are quick to point the finger and quicker to strike first, the better parts of their humanity often dangling like perilous threads. When our heroes run into a unit of Army soldiers lead by the venomous Colonel Henry Victor (Doug Hutchinson, making a handlebar mustache seem threatening), it's hard to say what's worse: the pain that the Colonel inflicts upon a Sioux prisoner or the fact that no one stops him. Writer-director J.T. Petty is taking his cues from the sociopolitical horror films of the seventies and eighties -- film that argued (persuasively) that nothing is scarier than humanity himself. Some of those cues feel a little obvious: Captain Henry Victor is cut from the Captain Kilgore mold (although what maniacal Army commander isn't?) and the film's barren, bleak atmosphere recalls it's equally fine contemporary The Proposition (although this is high praise, indeed).

But the film is more than the sum of it's parts, due largely to two important factors -- an impressive cast and impressive creatures. J.T. Petty used his seven million dollar budget wisely, hiring a diverse and eclectic cast (not to mention a dynamite Director of Photography) that bring nuance and depth to potentially showy roles. Karl Gearty plays with a thousand different shades of gray as Coffey -- he's a reluctant hero, but ready to spend his last breath on his quest and his transformation over the course of the film is compelling and essential, particularly towards the film's harrowing conclusion. William Mapother goes the distance as Will Parcher in ways that would be unfair to describe here (Spoilers! Not Classy!); and Clancy Brown, always in fine form, is particularly commanding as pastor John Clay. Brown has always had a talent for playing complicated, violent men, but John Clay is unique in his cannon -- an old soul with a ice-cold stare and a past that practically demands a prequel, Brown's work lends a necessary weight to every scene he's in.

Then there are the creatures -- suffice to say, going into detail would be a great deservice to you, dear reader. But, ask yourself this: when was the last time you saw creatures in a horror film whose design was unique, chilling to the bone and whose horrifying skill sets served the themes of the movie? (Plus, their often brought to life with old-school practical effects: Classy!)

The Burrowers is a character-driven western with monsters in it, not the reverse: like Let The Right One In did last fall, it uses the hallmarks of its genre to create something universal, a heart-of-darkness journey that is unsettling and pervasively enticing. The fact that it couldn't garner a theatrical release says more about the way our Good Ol' American Studio Heads (Rich!) view American audiences. In this case, their dumping ground is our gold mine. The Burrowers is a small gem that chills and unsettles on a titanic scale. If you're looking for something less exhausting, dear reader, I saw many copies of The Way Of War available at a local Blockbuster; Mr. Gooding Jr. likes a hot meal every once in a while.

Oh, and, please, watch out for that ending. It's a doozy...

Regards,
Scott

*Dear reader, a question: What would you christen the band who would use this kind of image on its album cover? Wurm Skull? Calvaryde? Fucked Over By Horses?

A Gentleman Warns You

2009-05-11T16:40:00.005-05:00

If you catch these posts in chronological order, let me introduce our new column, "The Double-Classy Film Review".

If you catch these posts in reverse-chronological order, let me explain our new column, "The Double-Classy Film Review".

The films reviewed are classy. The review itself is also classy. Get it? (Actually, our resident critic is classy too, but we thought "Triple-Classy" was a bit ostentatious.) The bottom line is: you readers are very, very lucky to get this kind of quality for free. But that free quality comes at a price. Scott is a very dear friend of Alyssa's and an esteemed mortal enemy of mine, so under no circumstances will we tolerate any disrespect towards our fine and classy contributor.

That said, please adhere to the following gentlemanly guidelines for consuming fine artistic criticism: do not smoke while reading; do not drive a car or operate heavy machinery while reading; pregnant women and those suffering from severe heart conditions should consult a doctor before reading; do not heckle the author; do not heckle his dog; do not reprint or rebroadcast without the express written consent of L&G, inc.; do not microwave; do not read this film review on Facebook; stand behind the yellow line at all times.

Finally, when reading Scott's film reviews, do not EVER sincerely comment that the book/the original/the British version was better. Such observations are superfluous and beneath us as ladies and gentlemen. If you fail to follow any of these rules, I will be forced to remove this column from our blog and I'll probably have to kill Scott for good measure. High-class film reviews are a privilege, so you better read with some goddamn deference.

You have been warned.

With love,
Patrick

*A gentleman prefers death to dishonor.

A Lady Acts Like It

2009-05-09T19:12:00.003-05:00

I like our new outfits, Patch! I've never worn this much pink before--I hope it doesn't highlight my rosacea.

As you remarked in your last post, we are growing up. And adulthood means adopting certain polite behaviors in all arenas of dignified society. Below are some suggestions for proper grownup lady-like behavior:

If she is sitting next to a girl on a crowded late night train and the girl suddenly cups both hands over her mouth, puffs out her cheeks, closes her eyes and starts making retching noises, it is both safe and wise for a lady to assume that she is on the verge of vomiting. A lady quietly picks up her purse and moves to a spew-safe zone, but remains near enough so that she can see if the girl pukes on any of her hipster friends.

A lady wears a raincoat; she never carries an umbrella. Umbrellas are for eye-piercing jerkfaces. A raincoat is also spew-safe.

Recognizing that she may not be able to hold it in until her stop, a lady cups both hands over her mouth, puffs out both cheeks, closes her eyes and silently apologizes to her fellow MTA passengers.

Upon realizing that she has landed herself in the middle of Granny Tranny Thursday, and that the "lady" who just used the Ladies room plopped a poop so big it clogged the pipes, a lady exits the restroom and says nothing except "Excuse me, ma'am" when trying to leave the bar at a lady-like pace so she can sprint to the nearest deli in order to purchase a cookie in exchange for restroom access.

A lady saves the cookie for the subway ride home and is only slightly put off eating it when the girl sitting next to her suddenly cups both hands over her mouth and burps.

*A lady is a difficult thing to be. It is an even more difficult thing to be if you are an aging gentleman with a voice like Barry White.

A Gentleman Color Coordinates

2009-04-28T23:14:00.020-05:00

Dear readers,

Ladies Ampersand Gentlemen is growing up. Seven months is roughly 46 in blog years and, with our inevitable midlife crisis looming, I thought we ought to take stock of what we've learned so far:

1) Make sure you can tell which blogger is doing the blogging. Hopefully, this new color scheme will allow you to tell me from Alyssa and enforce gender roles at the same time. Everybody wins!

2) Never argue with Alyssa. It's not that she's threatening or vindictive. Far from it, actually--few people are as pleasant, even in their best moods, as Pinch in a Snit(c). But a disagreement with Alyssa is a lot like a solar eclipse: it's a beautiful, inspiring thing until you engage with it directly. I'm not sure if it's a learned skill or some sort of latent Amazonian debater's instinct, but when when we actually argue head-to-head, I usually just end up forgetting what I was talking about. Oddly enough, this rule applies to Alyssa as well. She gets as confused as I do when she tries to argue with herself.

3) When in doubt, make a list of something. Don't forget to abuse style and formatting!

4) Steer clear of actual substance. Whether you've come for Pinch's famous whimsy or my patented brand of tedious sentence structure, we promise to bring you the best of the best of our completely useless ramblings. Because, Ladies and Gentlemen, isn't long-winded pointlessness the very essence of the high-class life we strive to achieve?

*A gentleman has a vague understanding of the definition of the word "aesthetics."

A Lady Is Sick Of Public Health Crises

2009-04-27T12:14:00.006-05:00

Well Patrick, we all have dreams. And while you sit there dreaming of meeting a leggy conservative, all I want for Christmas is to not get swine flu.

Seriously. I'm done. First there was the bovine bug. Then the bird germ. And now I've got to worry about catching pig cooties? In New York?

When I moved out of Iowa, I thought I was leaving those sorts of dangers behind. I've already done my time with tornados, earthquakes, floods, barge disasters, contaminated beef patties and the Y2K monster. I have paid my dues (if not my taxes) and I am done.

But apparently, it doesn't work that way. So while we wait to see how this public health crisis unfolds, I'm going to dream of the day when Babe: Pig in the City once again sounds like a mediocre children's movie and not like the title of a fact-based horror film.

But enough with the panic and face masks. I'm sure everything will turn out just fine and soon enough all New Yorkers will have to worry about is catching your average staph infection on the train or being robbed at gunpoint. And while barnyard relations may look a bit strained at the moment, I do believe that in time, we will resolve this crisis and restore the time-honored tradition of human-swine symbiosis.

*A lady enjoys bacon.

A Gentleman's Guide to Straddling the Aisle

2009-04-21T16:48:00.010-05:00

I want to make out with a Republican.

(Sorry to be abrupt. I was going to introduce that statement with an elaborate story about Somalia and the weekend train schedule, perhaps with a brief parenthetical about Susan Boyle or the lesser-known Portuguese dog breeds. But we might as well just cut to the chase.)

I'm serious about this. I think a one-night stand with Red State Kate** could satisfy my lust for heated debate and my lust for lust all at the same time. My friends have been supportive of my decision; a few of them even gave me some possible pick-up lines:

Catchy Quips for Conservative Catches

--Don't you think patriotism is sexy?

--You're even prettier than Ann Coulter.

--No, I'm serious. You're hot enough to work at Fox News!

--I'm worried I might be gay. Want to help cure me?

--Burning books gets me hot.

--Sorry I'm distracted, I just hate Bill Maher so much!

--You know who else didn't want to make out with me tonight? The terrorists.

--Did I tell you my great-uncle is Billy Graham?

--No, no. I totally believe you when you say you're libertarian.

--I was serious about burning those books, though. This guy on TV was talking about how the Harry Potter series pushes a Satanist agenda. Also, he totally kisses this Asian girl, and it's like, come on, have you ever even seen "Pearl Harbor?"

--I don't see any guns or religion around, but you can cling to me if you want.

--I'd love to patrol your borders.

Now if you're a liberal gentleman and you'd like to try these for yourself, be warned: these gems are intended only for the pursuit of a hardcore, flag-waving (possibly Alaskan) knockout--a Right hook of sex appeal straight to your glassy (probably socialist) jaw. None of this "fiscal conservative" or moderate nonsense: We're talking a low cut dress and a tax cut agenda.

Oh, and don't try anything with Cindy McCain. Those corners are sharp.

*A gentleman always brings protection. A bullet-proof vest should be fine, but for the love of God, make sure you put it on right.

**Heartland Hottie, Betty Baptist, Steele Magnolia, Vanna Right, Jill O'Reilly, Sexy Texan, Foxy Miss Foxwatcher, Susan B. Acrimony, Pro-Life Ex-Wife, Meghan McCain, GOPILF...

A Lady Got Captured By Pirates, She Swears

2009-04-13T20:58:00.003-05:00

First off, let me explain: I'm sorry it's been awhile since I last posted, but I was captured by pirates! I won't bore you with the preliminary details of how I came to be at sea with no gentleman accompaniment, but suffice to say that I was also without the Internet the entire time and so had no way of writing.

But don't worry or anything--I'm perfectly alright, save for a little sea salt nestled right up against my left eyeball. Other than that, I'm great. Refreshed even. In fact, ladies & gentlemen, I'm about to tell you something: The word "Pirate" has got some awfully undeserved connotations stuck to the heels of its boots. You hear about a band of pirates hanging around somewhere and what, ladies & gentlemen, do you up and do? I bet your answer is to start making assumptions about the goodness of their intentions, the danger in their eye-patched gazes, the audibility of their growl-infused speech patterns.

Well it's about time all this changed. You see, while aboard ship, I came up with a plan to trade the scallywags for my freedom. They agreed, and that is how I came up with something that's sure to be hitting the market hard in the coming months.

I call it (you're gonna love this, Patrick) the iPatch: A multifunctional device for the sea-faring and file-sharing. The iPatch allows a pirate to maintain his traditional eye-wear aesthetic as well as store 100 GB of music, play video, and access a GPS navigation system. It's a Blackberry for Blackbeard! I made it out of some bobby pins, lime rinds, an old black glove and the Captain's iPod Shuffle--it practically made itself!

So that's where I've been all this time. The pirates were totally cool--they said as soon as they get the ship outfitted with wireless Internet, they're going to start following our blog.

I assume by now you've forgiven my tardiness. So, uh, thanks for that.

*A lady always tells the truth about why she's late for dinner--last-minute excuses, wild apologetic inventions, and blaming it on the weekend train schedule is never, ever, not ever once permitted.

A Gentleman Hungers for a Simpler Time

2009-03-31T23:25:00.007-05:00

These rainy afternoons get me thinking. Oh boy, do they get me thinking--just stuck here on the veranda, watching the drizzle, alone with my thoughts. Maybe it's the solitude, or maybe it's just the spring, but I start to really miss... I don't know... whatever it was I feel like I used to have. That connection with the human race, maybe. This inexplicable, galvanizing force that really pushes us to get out there and be a part of the world. Love? Maybe that's what it is.

I've known love, or something like love. But that was a different year. A different place. I might call it "the place of my Youth" with a little nod to Robert Penn Warren, although that's probably a little too sentimental. I might just call it Iowa, if we're speaking in practical, empirical terms.

I said goodbye that flat, nurtured Earth where people seemed to smile more, even if they didn't, and the food was good. I said goodbye like an addict, in that I was never entirely convinced I'd left at all. If an alcoholic is doomed to be an alcoholic forever, I suppose I'm doomed to be an Iowan. But I digress.

Because it isn't Iowa that chokes me up, slows me down. It's the love that I had there. The generosity of those dear people at the Coral Ridge Mall, who gave me my cards in a little box. The little white cards that were Love, as pure a definition of Love as ever I've known. For 52 weeks (and even more than that, because they were generous people, and relaxed) I had free Chick-Fil-A. Sandwiches, sweet tea, waffle fries. And there was no charge for extra condiments. No charge for extra condiments.

*A gentleman savors the tender memories--the tender, succulent, well-seasoned memories on a warm, buttery bun.

A Lady Pays Tribute Where Tribute Is Due

2009-03-30T21:04:00.004-05:00

Lately I've been thinking about the ways in which ladies and gentlemen pay tribute to one another, to the extraordinary accomplishments of ordinary people, to those who do nothing but live long enough to catch the attention of someone with a decent chunk of change. Our nation is littered with such monuments and markers, our parks with benches and plaques, our very living room walls with commemorative Barack Obama Historic Victory dinner plates. It's enough to make a lady reach for the smelling salts and the Vicodin tablets.

While these well-meaning folk cover our country in useless cast iron figurines and other finely-engraved eyesores, I'd like to encourage a tribute of a different kind--one that won't last nearly as long as a concrete and steel structure but will mean so much more: How would you like a slideshow displaying photos of unrelated moments in your life set to a medley of inappropriately maudlin songs and topped off with a few pop-up comments written in a neon sans-serif font and posted on YouTube?

More like You'Bute!

The truth is, whether you're a distinguished lady or gentleman, a kitten or a puppy, a fish tank or a bus stop, 9/11 or a seven-year-old's dying chinchilla--you deserve to have a tribute video with musical accompaniment made in your honor and displayed on a website for no one to care enough to sit all the way through. By not polluting the countryside with pyramids and other international wonders, it'll be a tribute to the environment, too!

It's what our forefathers had in mind when they wrote the First Amendment to the United States Constitution.

*A lady acknowledges those who have touched her life. She dedicates this post to friends, family, teachers, coaches, utter strangers, pickles, strange utterances, colored pencils, a frog, dinos, and the fungus that is currently growing between her toes.

A Gentleman Celebrates With Disorganized Enthusiasm

2009-03-18T18:44:00.005-05:00

Hello! Happy St. Patrick's Day.


        .-.-.
       (     )
     .-.\ : /.-.
    (   .`:`.   )
     (   /|\   )
      `"` | `"`

...

I'm sorry? What? Today's the 18th?

...

Don't correct me. What makes this holiday the greatest of all holidays? Lax itineraries. Sure, the feast day of Saint Patrick might be observed on March 17th, but trust me: the Irish aren't on time for anything. Valentine's day is February 14th. Arbor day is ... whenever. But St. Patrick's is a loosely scheduled affair as a matter of tradition. (In fact, in my hometown of Chicago, it's been illegal to celebrate the holiday on time since the river was first dyed green on Saturday, March 12th, 1542. Look it up.)

So don't get all uptight about it. Pull those green socks out of the hamper--they smell fine. As for me, I'm gonna go grab one more beer. You're looking prettier already. Clink!

*Health for the men, and may the women live forever.

A Lady Feeds the Starving Masses

2009-03-08T11:17:00.006-05:00

Patrick, thank you for leading this forum for the contemplation and discussion of gender-related issues back onto its narrow, crumbling track.

While a gentleman is concerned with enhancing himself, a lady busies herself about the community. She searches for what good needs to be done: in parks, Bingo parlors, subway cars and on front stoops. In her quest for a project, a lady remembers to remove her earbuds and push her dark sunglasses to the top of her forehead. She soon spies a troupe of pathetic looking figures, and notes: My, those young ladies and gentlemen with artfully-messed hair and tight black jeans look thin. Frightfully thin. Why, I bet they are hungry.

The youngsters to which a lady is referring turn out to be a specific brand of Lower East Siders and Brooklynites that real estate agents like to call "Hipsters." Patch, you may have heard of them--I believe a few small tribes have cropped up in Chicago as well--and I am here to confirm that these fabled figures are barely alive and traipsing through SoHo. They are every bit as gaunt as the picture books of old depict. As a concerned lady, I say it is time that something be done to save this endangered species.

So I stand here today, as an American citizen, as a New Yorker, and--most importantly--as a Lady, to ask for your support. These malnourished twenty-to-mid-thirty-somethings need your help. And for the low, low donation of $32.50 per day, you can give them practically everything they need in order to survive: a clean change of V-neck American Apparel undershirts, daily macchiatos from an independent cafe, the latest Architecture in Helsinki EP [vinyl], six packs of Parliaments, and a six-pack of PBR. Granted, none of your money will actually go towards providing nutritive sustenance to these skeletal beings, but you can bet at least a few of those dollars will be used to buy a pair of vintage cerulean non-prescription eyeglass frames. Now that's something you can feel good about.

*A lady thanks you for your generosity, congratulates herself on a job well done, and shoves her earbuds back in.

A Gentleman Enhances Himself

2009-03-05T08:25:00.008-06:00

Male enhancement. The subject simply cannot be avoided any longer. Ladies Amp is is a gender-centric discussion of culture and manners, and we would be doing our readership a disservice to ignore the issue.

I am, of course, using the term "male enhancement" as all gentlemen do, as a polite euphemism for gaining weight. Putting on a few. Thickening. Porkening. Blubbin' out. The gentlemanly acquisition of lipophilic assets. Call it what you will--it happens to the best of us. (And by that rationale, Rush Limbaugh is the best of the best.) Gaining weight is certainly nothing to be ashamed of, provided you do it right.

First of all, you gotta stay as healthy as you can. That's key. Sure, sure, you love a good Dorito cheesecake. Who doesn't? But eat that spinach. And keep a water bottle. Don't forget to floss! Oh, and would it kill you to take the dog for a walk? It's good for you and it's good for the dog.
I'm not saying you gotta do sit-ups all day long, but if your doctor asks you why your blood pressure is comparable to a Super Soaker, I don't want you blaming some shady advice you got from the internet.

Now, that said... if you're gonna get fat, you might as well go for it. None of this quasi-dumpy, Jimmy Kimmel stuff. You gotta be Marlon Brando. You gotta be Jeff Cohen (look it up later.) I'm talking about the kind of girth that'll win bar-bets when you show folks your yearbook picture.
And, hey, don't kid yourself: that kind of look takes effort. Not everyone has the discipline to assume the perfectly-spherical, "this gum tastes like blueberry pie" condition, though that is and should be the ideal for any oversized gentleman. Some of you may have to settle for that shade-past-portly figure that is the requisite body type for once-a-week bowlers and SNL alums.

Whichever look you choose, be sure to wear it proud and invest in a Hawaiian shirt--but only as an irony thing.

*A gentleman is conscious of his appearance as a point of practicality, but is unintimidated by Hollywood standards. I mean, just look at Al Roker... who wouldn't want to hit that?

A Lady Voices Her Concern

2009-03-01T21:52:00.004-06:00

Patch, thank you for your last post. What a well-written strongly-voiced reminder concerning the fragility of children's literature narration. Governor Jindal's Story Hour was indeed a frightful display of human vocalization techniques--grating to the ears of adults and injurious to the malleable minds of young Americans. In an attempt to discourage any other politicians who may be harboring similar rhetorical aspirations, I would like to outline a few possible worst-case scenarios:

A Lady's Nightmare List of Politicians Reading Children's Literature:

Rudy Giuliani reads Dr. Seuss' One Fish Two Fish Nine Fish Eleven Fish
Hillary Clinton reads Roald Dahl's Charlie and the Great Glass Ceiling
Al Gore reads Shel Silverstein's The Giving Me
Rod Blagojevich reads Laura Numeroff's If You Give the House A Bookie
Chief Justice Roberts reads Joseph Rosenbloom's Little Giant Book of Tongue Twisters

*A lady reads children's literature the way it was meant to be read: Aloud, in appropriate character voices, while wearing feet pajamas, on the subway, for a suggested donation of spare change or spare food.

A Gentleman's Epistle to Governor Bobby Jindal

2009-02-25T20:46:00.007-06:00

Governor Jindal,

Last night, I witnessed your televised response to President Obama's address to Congress. I am moved to impress upon you that I, like many others, am sincerely disappointed. Though I was impressed with the soothing tenor of your children's-narrator delivery, I found your logic to be flawed and under-supported.

You said, for instance, the words "Americans can do anything" a total of six times. What puzzled me is you also used the same verbiage in reference solely to our nation's soldiers. Can those "fighting men and women" accomplish "anything" by virtue of the fact that they are soldiers or simply that they are Americans? I'm splitting hairs, of course, but I am wary of empty compliments.

Then there were the real substantive issues: the polite-yet-clear criticisms of the current administration. If I may quote you again, I took special note when you said that "Republicans have a responsibility to be candid and offer better ideas for a path forward." I hate to editorialize, Governor--and I certainly do not claim to be an expert orator--but I feel compelled to point out that the rest of your speech offered little in the way of constructive alternatives to a direction you find distasteful. If recovery.gov does not provide enough transparency with regards to government spending, how might you more efficiently provide that transparency? Your rhetoric would have inspired more of that trust you seem to be looking for if you had reinforced those bold sentiments of yours with some clean, solid examples.

Honestly though, even the structure of your argument did not bother me as much as the content, which demonstrated in clear terms how severely your priorities differ from those of the American public. I am a hard worker, sir, and I live in hard times. If well-defined regulation is the only thing that's going to help me back on my feet, I'm not going to let some outdated, antebellum aversions to "big government" frighten me into support for bad policy (or inaction). You speak, apparently fearfully, of government programs that have the potential to become permanent. I say I want to work, and I refuse to scorn an opportunity that the government sets in front of me. If you put as much faith into Americans as you say, Governor Jindal, then perhaps you ought to take note of the Obama administration's approval ratings, and reason that we, who can do anything, might be nearly unanimous for a reason. Thank you, sir.

Sincerely,
Patrick DeLoach
Volcano Monitor (unemployed)
Chicago, IL

*A gentleman apologizes for his absence--although I did enjoy my road trip of the American Southwest, taking pictures of signs that misused quotation marks. Were you nice to the substitute?

A Lady Composes A Valentine

2009-02-12T21:31:00.014-06:00

Patch, as always, I thank you for doing the things I am too neurotic to do for myself.

The month of February is a special time for Americans: At the start of the month we receive our tax statements and begin the arduous struggle to recall simple math skills and maintain some semblance of sanity; mid-month brings Valentine's Day on which we show appreciation for the ones we love with edible or floral tokens; but throughout the entire month we recall the horrors of slavery and we face the fact that, even with a Black president, America will never be able to apologize enough (plus, what a great guy, that George Washington Carver!)

Because it can be difficult to find time to celebrate all of these unique moments in a month truncated as this, I've devised a plan for incorporating all of these important Februaric events into one.

I call it the Tax History Valentine. Combining the labyrinthine framework of Income Tax forms with the sentimentality of a Valentine's Day card, topped off with a few historical facts about our nation's beloved African American citizens--well, here's a sample:

FILING STATUS (Check only one.)

__Single

__Married and filing jointly for nine beautiful years <3

__Slave (Just kidding, we stopped calling you that in the 1860s!)

EXEMPTIONS

__Your lonely, lonely, self-loathing self. If someone can claim you as a dependent, they're in big trouble.

__Spouse, I'll always make an exemption for you!

Dependents:

Slave #26J

Slave #18B

Slave #47R

Total number of slave exemptions claimed: 0 (Kidding again! What a wild, crazy, entirely regrettable and unthinkable period of our nation's dark--ahem, I mean black, uh, I, uh, mean really really not good--history. Oh god, we're going to need more than an annual month to dig ourselves out of this one.)

INCOME (Check only one.)

__I'll always have a taxable interest in you, baby!

__Sweetheart, you're more than just ordinary dividends to me.

__If line 71 is more than line 61, subtract line 61 from line 71. This is the amount you overpaid for that pair of teddy bears with the magnetic heart-shaped noses.

AMOUNT YOU OWE: 40 acres and a mule

*A lady wishes everyone a happy February! Order your Tax History Valentines today and I'll throw in a set of musical cards. Your choice of "If I Lose You, You'll Make My White Guilt Blue" or "I'm the Tax Man Who Loves You."

A Gentleman's "A Lady's 25 Things"

2009-02-11T14:39:00.006-06:00

Aw, don't get worked up, Pinchface. I know you pretty well by now, and my OCD is differently selective. I can't wear ankle-socks, but I can count to 25 just fine.

"Alyssa's 25 Things"

#1: My favorite naturally occurring element is Cheesy Breadsticks.

#2: I once spent the night in a parking lot prior to the grand opening of a new Chick-Fil-A franchise. I was third in line the next morning.

#3: Incidentally, I would like to someday own a beanbag chair that looks like a giant Chick-n-Mini.

#4: I'm in the market for a Mazda Miata. Blue. Used. (I'm not made of money.)

#5: I love puns more than I love people.

#6: I was briefly involved in the performing arts in India.

#7: Nothing relaxes me more than punching raw pizza dough.

#8: If there is a fountain of youth, I'm certain it's filled with Cherry Coke.

#9: I pay the mob a protection fee to keep my shower from trying to murder me.

#10: I don't really want a baby, but if I had one, it would be for the sake of a number of unconventional fringe benefits. For example, I would consider having a kid just to decorate my apartment with his or her kindergarten art projects.

#11: My other favorite naturally occurring element is John Lennon.

#12: I find Segway scooters both hilarious and terrifying.

#13: I have a crush on Stephen Baldwin, which stems from some pretty deep insecurities.

#14: My favorite monopoly piece is the shoe.

#15: My favorite Crayola Crayon color is "Abe Lincoln's Hat". I also like "Indian Red", which was later changed to "Chestnut" for unknown reasons.

#16: I'll watch anything with Bill Murray in it, but I get the feeling I'd rather not hang out with him in real life. Conversely, I'd very much like to grab a drink with Daniel Day-Lewis, but I'd spend the whole time praying he didn't ask me what I thought of The Crucible.

#17: I look taller than I am.

#18: If I ever had a real, earnest stalker, I think I'd be so fascinated by his obsession that I'd follow him around and try to figure out what makes him tick. I call this the "Mobius Stalker" theory.

#19: I've always thought that the ultimate animal would have the head of a lion, the body of a porcupine, the wing-like arms of a flying squirrel, and the tail of a marmot. And the brains of a man. And the thumbs of a chimp. And the--no, wait, that's enough. I would name it The Burris, and it would sleep at the foot of my bed.

#20: I moved to New York because I was misinformed about the weather.

#21: When it comes to Wall Street CEOs... well, I really just don't see what all the fuss is about.

#22: I love the term "ankle-biters" in reference to young children.

#23: If I had a parakeet, I would name her Sex Offender.

#24: I have a sneaking suspicion that Sarah Palin is actually Andy Kaufman.

#25: I'm worried about those disappearing bees.

*A gentleman orders for his lady at restaurants.

A Lady's 25 (+1) Things

2009-02-08T22:26:00.003-06:00

Well thank you for bringing up the Facebook 25 phenomenon, Patrick. I was reading an article about it just the other day and have come to the conclusion that a lady does not give Facebookers the cheap satisfaction of acquiring 25 rare facts about her for free. A lady makes her "friends" read her blog for such a privilege:

# 1: My favorite naturally occurring element is--

Oh, who am I kidding? This is the lamest thing to round the corner since Microsoft Songsmith donned a Snuggie and rolled out onto the street in a tangerine Smart Car. I could tell you 25 things about myself right now if I wanted to. Twenty-five fascinating, remarkable, unbelievable things about yours truly. But if I did that, I'd have to go ahead and tell you a 26th, just to keep things even. So I'll go right ahead and skip to that one.

* # 26: A lady only completes lists containing an even number of items (otherwise the room is sure to cave in around her like buildings in earthquake footage--only this cave-in would be caused by an imbalance of forces farther beyond a lady's control than tectonics, much in the way that everything else is beyond a lady's control except for the quantity of items a lady adds to a numbered/lettered/bulleted/check-marked list; a lady has selective OCD.)

A Gentleman Ain't Too Proud to Beg

2009-02-05T21:36:00.005-06:00

Dear Summer,

Hey. How you been? I know this is, like, totally random. I mean, we haven't seen each other in forever. I guess I just wanted to say...
I've been thinking about you lately.

Please don't think I'm desperate. I've been doing just fine--I even tried getting along with one or two other seasons. I had high hopes for Winter, but I guess it was more of novelty, ya know what I mean? The excitement wore off really quickly, and then things were just... I dunno...

Anyway, I saw your '25 things' note on Facebook the other day. (It showed up on my main screen--don't think I'm a stalker, lol.) It just brought back a lot of memories. I couldn't believe your #13. I thought you forgot all about that. :)

So, yeah, just sayin' hi. Hope you're getting on fine wherever you are. Maybe, if you're around, we could get together. You know, playing catch-up, awkward convos, hahaha. It would just be cool to see you, even for just a bit.

Okay, I've totally embarrassed myself enough. You could always text me or whatever, if you want.

From,
Patrick

*A gentleman punctuates his correspondence reasonably well.

A Lady Sees Her Shadow

2009-02-02T00:39:00.003-06:00

Ladies & Gentlemen:

I am pained to announce that, upon emerging from the darkness of my dwelling this afternoon, I indeed found myself in the presence of my very shadow, which did proclaim:

"So you're the new Sponsor of Spring, huh? Well it's not coming for another couple of months. See ya."

You know, Patch, my shadow sounds a little bit like you, only a tad huskier and not nearly as witty. You see, I have been racking my brain for the last few months, trying to come up with the ideal recession-proof career. Then it came to me--who else can make a living off an annual gig, which involves the simple act of waking up, taking a gander at the ground, and yawning something crucial like "Not just yet, folks" or "Should be along any minute now" or "Can I get some pancakes over here"? Punxsutawney Phil, that's who. And he's what, over 120 years old by now? He's basically the Strom Thurmond of holiday mascots. So I thought: I'm great at sleeping, pretty good at waking up and excellent at noticing things, such as the appearance of my opinionated and sometimes clingy shadow. I say it's high time for a new regime--if we can elect a new color of president, why not a new species of Seasonal Seer?

But in a Blagojevichian turn of events, Phil has refused to step down. So I have taken matters into my own hands by making my debut announcement before Mr. Punxsutawney even wakes up, rendering moot any proclamations made by that antiquated marmot. Consider me duly employed.

*A lady does what she must to survive in a recession economy. This includes stealing careers, pretending to have personal strengths, and selling things. Which reminds me: My shadow just sold on eBay. Looks like we'll be having an early spring after all.

"Lawyer" Is a Gentleman's Verb

2009-01-23T20:44:00.004-06:00

Ah ha. I get it, Pinch. Last week you were The Pride of the Big Apple; this week you're Queen of the Corn-Fed. Maybe you do belong at a gathering of politicians--you brought enough flip-flops for all of us to go to the beach.

Oh I'm sorry? You don't believe me? You say you've always stuck to your sticky, sticky guns? Perhaps you'd like to see proof of your old hometown waffles (by which I mean your inconsistencies, not the delicious breakfast treat of the same name.) And, oh, I got proof. I got more exhibits than the goddamn Smithsonian.

Exhibit A In which Alyssa demonstrates her qualifications as an Iowan.

Exhibit B In which Alyssa counter-demonstricates her New Yorkitude.

Exhibit C In which Alyssa inexplicably narrates the history of Detriot, Michigan. Really, Pinch? Detriot?

Exhibit D In which Alyssa says... something about California. I don't know, I wasn't really paying attention.

Exhibit E In which Alyssa wishes she was Chinese or something.

By now, my dear, you will have of course realized that this is not as much a trial as it is a clip show. A gentleman praises his colleague on her consistent, well-written ladyness, no matter how geographically wishy-washy. Nevertheless, I will sleep a little more soundly knowing the truth has at last been brought to light. Cue the Law and Order theme.

*A gentleman can lawyer with the best of 'em. Incidentally, If Alyssa wishes for Patrick to convey bad news via Facebook, perhaps she will recall that each and every post of Ladies Amp. is automatically incorporated into her notes, resulting in a knockout combination of networking/blog-reading. Thusly, she may consider herself appropriately notified.

A Lady Lets It Pass (Aggressively)

2009-01-21T15:11:00.004-06:00

Oh I bet this is awkward for you, Patrick.

You went to the inauguration without me simply because I live in New York now? I will have you know that I am every bit as Midwestern as the next guy standing in line at the Farm & Fleet. And another thing: I would have loved a patriotic tri-color letter-by-letter post. It would have reminded me of all those Main Street Fourth of July parades I loved so much growing up--dreaming about one day attending the first inauguration of a nonwhite man--in Iowa. As I type, my crown is adorned with nothing less Heartlandish than a feed cap, which reminds me that I must attend to my blue-ribbon broccoli and Velveeta casserole before it crisps.

But it's okay, Patch. In the time it took me to write that last paragraph and check on my 'role, I have already forgiven you. In fact, I'll rest my hand on Lincoln's Bible and take an oath promising not to lord this over you forever like the time you forgot my birthday and then mailed me one of your dirty socks--when you remembered three weeks later--with a note scrawled on the back of a Dunkin' Donuts receipt saying "I made you a puppet!"

*A lady thinks it's just fine that a gentleman would attend an unprecedented national event without her and not even be gentlemanly enough to tell her in a suitably human way, like on Facebook or in a text message. A lady also forgives and gets even later when a gentleman is least expecting it.

Ladies Ampersand Gentlemen

Untitled (Nonfiction)

If One Must Gossip May 13th, year of Our Lord 2010

A Gentleman Has Weaknesses

A Lady Gets Lost

If One Must Gossip 1/13/2010

A Gentleman Knows What's Best for Everybody

A Lady Composes A Holiday Letter

A Gentleman Never "Sexts"

Double-Classy Film Review: New Moon

A Lady Always RSVPs

A Gentleman is Thankful for Freedom and Pokemon

If one Must Gossip 10/22/09

A Lady Returns To Her Upright Position

A Gentleman is Happy to Oblige (part 2)

If One Must Gossip 10/29/09

A Lady Is Abroad

A Gentleman is Happy to Oblige (part 1)

A Lady's Done Some Creepy Things, Too

If One Must Gossip 9/30/09

K Day

A Gentleman Is... *Yawn* ...What was I saying?

A Lady Is Courageous

A Gentleman Is Wary

If One Must Gossip 8/29/09

A Lady's Got You Covered

A Gentleman Makes Lemonade (2)

A Lady Is A Natural Disaster

A Gentleman is Invaluable

A Lady Enables

A Gentleman Provides

A Lady's Goal Post

A Gentleman Doesn't Wish Upon Anything

A Lady Palindromes Upon Request

A Gentleman Channels His "Feelings" Into "Art"

If One Must Gossip, 8/9/09

A Lady Is A Smooth Operator

A Gentleman Can't Be Bought

A Lady Is Convincing

If One Must Gossip, 7/23/09

A Gentleman Is A Georgia Peach

A Lady Has Got To See The World

A Gentleman Listens. Really Listens.

A Lady Applies Herself

A Gentleman Enjoys Symmetry Now and Again (& Again)

If One Must Gossip, 5/29/09

A Lady Is Filmed In Front Of A Live Studio Audience

If One Must Gossip, 5/20/09

A Gentleman's Epistle to RNC Chairman Michael Steele

A Lady Enjoys A Break Now and Again (& Again)

Double-Classy Film Review: The Burrowers

A Gentleman Warns You

A Lady Acts Like It

A Gentleman Color Coordinates

A Lady Is Sick Of Public Health Crises

A Gentleman's Guide to Straddling the Aisle

A Lady Got Captured By Pirates, She Swears

A Gentleman Hungers for a Simpler Time

A Lady Pays Tribute Where Tribute Is Due

A Gentleman Celebrates With Disorganized Enthusiasm

A Lady Feeds the Starving Masses

A Gentleman Enhances Himself

A Lady Voices Her Concern

A Gentleman's Epistle to Governor Bobby Jindal

A Lady Composes A Valentine

A Gentleman's "A Lady's 25 Things"

A Lady's 25 (+1) Things

A Gentleman Ain't Too Proud to Beg

A Lady Sees Her Shadow

"Lawyer" Is a Gentleman's Verb

A Lady Lets It Pass (Aggressively)

A Gentleman Is... Yawn ...What was I saying?