I must comment on Steve's blog from today.
That commercial last night sent Steve into a rant like I haven't seen in quite a while. He wasn't just postulating, or taking a side for the sake of an argument. Bob Dylan has clearly sold out to The Man. Rant, rant, rant. Not even a new book about zombies could truly distract him. The icing on the cake this morning was the 10 minutes between 6:55am and 7:05am when Steve thought Howard Stern had finally been kicked off the airwaves. I was awaked at 7:00am by Steve's eyeballs drilling into me and him hissing, "it's 7am! They've taken Howard off the air!" This moment reminded me of the morning of 9/11 when I called to him in the bathroom that the world was ending. We just lay there for a few minutes contemplating a world where there is No Howard, but plenty of George Bush, conservative America makes decisions for us all, and Bob Dylan does commercials for corporate panties on corporate television. Thank god it turned out to be hoax, because I'm not sure what Steve would have done. Finally packing up Schmedly and moving to a cave like he always threatened was not an unlikely scenario. But calling in sick, starting the Scotch I.V. and playing Tony Hawk on the PS 2 all day might have been closer.
I'm glad to read that he was all calmed down and in on the joke by the time he got to work. So much so that it didn't even rate a mention on his blog.
But Bob did.
This is really left over from last week, but I was so swamped that I didn't even get to write about Simone's fashion show.
My friend from Crank Yankers, Simone Williams, makes the most beautiful custom corsets. Check them out at www.exquisiterestraint.com. They look like something out of Vogue, and are truly sexy and wonderful. Anyway, she asked me to come be her assistant for a charity fashion show at the Sunset Room. I had a great time, and it made for some great people watching. My favorite moment of the night was when the group of models stationed next to us finished their runway walk.
Let me remind you what happens at a fashion show. They spend 4 hours getting ready- hair, make-up, getting dressed...for about 2 minutes of actual action. They saunter up and down a walkway, and they don't trip. If they are really good, they actually have a little personality and work the clothes in a way that makes you like the clothes and want to have sex with the model. If they are not good, you go, "Jesus Christ, those clothes are ugly! What the fuck is that? My god, that woman needs a sandwich!" When they return to the bakstage area, everyone applauds wildly.
So these models next to us, a passel of about 6, return to their staging area all a flutter. "It was so dark! I didn't know when to go! Blah! Blah! Blah!" They way they were all carrying on, you would have thought they had just performed a 4 hour opera. It was high drama, and they were all very amped. My God, what if they had actually done something more than walk and not trip? Would they have exploded? Would the earth have tipped off axis? Thank god, we will never know. I observed a lot of high drama and carrying on all evening, everywhere but at our little table. Simone was totally unfazed by the whole event, and her stuff looked smashing. I also observed a lot of pervy guys trolling backstage, starting about an hour before the show started. I'm sure some of them are nice guys in normal life, but you'd think they had never seen a nearly naked chick before. A nearly naked chick whose ribs you could play like a xylophone down her back, wearing an ugly schmata and too much eyeliner. Surrounded by 35 other ones just like her. All very amped. Steve says the AVN Las Vegas show is like that with the guys, but at least those girls are hot.
Last thought of today...Rebecca at work told the shop that a study showed that men need to see 10 minutes of boobs a day for their well-being. I said I need to see 10 minutes of men doing the dishes and vacuuming.
Love, Robyn
That commercial last night sent Steve into a rant like I haven't seen in quite a while. He wasn't just postulating, or taking a side for the sake of an argument. Bob Dylan has clearly sold out to The Man. Rant, rant, rant. Not even a new book about zombies could truly distract him. The icing on the cake this morning was the 10 minutes between 6:55am and 7:05am when Steve thought Howard Stern had finally been kicked off the airwaves. I was awaked at 7:00am by Steve's eyeballs drilling into me and him hissing, "it's 7am! They've taken Howard off the air!" This moment reminded me of the morning of 9/11 when I called to him in the bathroom that the world was ending. We just lay there for a few minutes contemplating a world where there is No Howard, but plenty of George Bush, conservative America makes decisions for us all, and Bob Dylan does commercials for corporate panties on corporate television. Thank god it turned out to be hoax, because I'm not sure what Steve would have done. Finally packing up Schmedly and moving to a cave like he always threatened was not an unlikely scenario. But calling in sick, starting the Scotch I.V. and playing Tony Hawk on the PS 2 all day might have been closer.
I'm glad to read that he was all calmed down and in on the joke by the time he got to work. So much so that it didn't even rate a mention on his blog.
But Bob did.
This is really left over from last week, but I was so swamped that I didn't even get to write about Simone's fashion show.
My friend from Crank Yankers, Simone Williams, makes the most beautiful custom corsets. Check them out at www.exquisiterestraint.com. They look like something out of Vogue, and are truly sexy and wonderful. Anyway, she asked me to come be her assistant for a charity fashion show at the Sunset Room. I had a great time, and it made for some great people watching. My favorite moment of the night was when the group of models stationed next to us finished their runway walk.
Let me remind you what happens at a fashion show. They spend 4 hours getting ready- hair, make-up, getting dressed...for about 2 minutes of actual action. They saunter up and down a walkway, and they don't trip. If they are really good, they actually have a little personality and work the clothes in a way that makes you like the clothes and want to have sex with the model. If they are not good, you go, "Jesus Christ, those clothes are ugly! What the fuck is that? My god, that woman needs a sandwich!" When they return to the bakstage area, everyone applauds wildly.
So these models next to us, a passel of about 6, return to their staging area all a flutter. "It was so dark! I didn't know when to go! Blah! Blah! Blah!" They way they were all carrying on, you would have thought they had just performed a 4 hour opera. It was high drama, and they were all very amped. My God, what if they had actually done something more than walk and not trip? Would they have exploded? Would the earth have tipped off axis? Thank god, we will never know. I observed a lot of high drama and carrying on all evening, everywhere but at our little table. Simone was totally unfazed by the whole event, and her stuff looked smashing. I also observed a lot of pervy guys trolling backstage, starting about an hour before the show started. I'm sure some of them are nice guys in normal life, but you'd think they had never seen a nearly naked chick before. A nearly naked chick whose ribs you could play like a xylophone down her back, wearing an ugly schmata and too much eyeliner. Surrounded by 35 other ones just like her. All very amped. Steve says the AVN Las Vegas show is like that with the guys, but at least those girls are hot.
Last thought of today...Rebecca at work told the shop that a study showed that men need to see 10 minutes of boobs a day for their well-being. I said I need to see 10 minutes of men doing the dishes and vacuuming.
Love, Robyn
posted by Robyn at
8:39 PM
1 Comments
