This game is the sh*t! But more addicting than crack: you’ve been warned.

Maxim sums up basically the best gifts of all time for your Dad/Grad.

Charlie Sheen Marries an “Easy” Woman. Obviously.

I feel so bad for this guy. But not bad enough to find his situation completely hilarious.

Watermelon Bombe: It’s not what you’re thinking.

But This Is! Cheers!

Audrina from back in the day. Hot or Not?

Jennifer Aniston is a pothead?! Am I the last person on earth to realize this?!

You don’t have to be rich and white to like SATC...just don’t expect to see yourself represented.

Superhero Fashion: kinda flamboyant. Oh, wait, did I say kinda? I meant VERY.

While I was growing up, I had a hell of a lot of fun. My very early years were spent going to the local sports complex with my dad and my little brother, playing backyard baseball/soccer/tag with a gaggle of kids from the neighborhood, having fashion shows with gear from my massive dress-up box for my mom. Then, as I got older, my friends and I started throwing boy-girl parties involving air hockey tournaments and games of spin the bottle, and would have sleepovers where we dyed our hair and cleaned the house on Saturday afternoons so my mom would give us movie money.

In my early teen years I’d hang out at the skatepark and take trips out of town with as many people as we could pack in a van to watch bands play; later, at the end of my high school career, weeknights were spent driving around, listening to jams and making pointless stops at WalMart, and weekends were spent partaking in outlandish late-night drinking shenanigans accompanied by board games.

Then I went to college. And while some of my best friends did attend the same school as me, and while I did meet a handful of fantastic new people, for the most part, I was pretty miserable. I went from a small town where I had known everyone for 5+ years to a giant school filled with rich kids from suburbia who wouldn’t know real fun if it kicked them in the teeth. Read More »

With the purchase of my new Wii Fit, I’ve been on a serious exercise and health kick of late (with the glaring exception of Memorial Day). As such, I’ve been trying to keep track of everything I eat and my portions in my head, which is inherently flawed in that in any given day I will lose my keys, sunglasses and purse at least once. And so I’ve found some sites that help not only keep track of what I eat every day and my daily exercise, but also tell me how many calories I should consume for my size, how many calories are in my favorite foods and how many calories are burned in my workout.

The one that I’m using is called thedailyplate. Membership is free and the site is very easy to use. Like the Wii Fit, it has you setting weight goals and gives you tips on how to achieve them. I like the way the days are laid out, it shows fairly comprehensively what you ate, when, and all the nutritional aspects of that meal. Read More »

Today, while sitting in the salon in my hometown and having the prerequisite hairdresser chit chat with the guy who’s been doing my hair since high school, the old “so, you got a boyfriend?” question came up.

These days, I don’t even try to stop my chuckle when I answer, “nope”.

We talked a little about why my river has run so dry for so long, and as he ran his scissors through my bangs, my hometown hairdresser goes “well, it’s probably because you’re a real person.”

This is not the first time I’ve been called real. And it’s not the first time this “realness” has been connected to me being single.

What are we to surmise from this?

Does being real immediately put me in some kind of realness cage? A desolate place where people who can’t be anything other than themselves are gawked at by the rest of the fake society? Is being real like having some kind of horrible birthmark on my face — something that frightens potential suitors away with its blatant obviousness? Are we real people like the cyclops kitten; so weird no one wants to get too close but can’t exactly look away? Read More »

For the former Daily Show “correspondent” and talented star, Steve Carell (who’s acting abilities, incidentally, shine the most when he takes on more subdued roles, as in the case when he played a gay, Proust scholar in Little Miss Sunshine), the opportunity to star in the American Office, assuming the same role that Gervais had perfected even before the show’s inception on BBC, must have been, I can only presume, a bit daunting.

Indeed, those are big shoes to fill, as my previous piece, which introduces the mastermind(s) behind the Office indicates. (Despite my focus on Gervais, he shouldn’t be given all the credit, as Stephen Merchant was also the co-creator of the Office and their hit series on HBO, Extras).

THE VERDICT: FIRST IMPRESSIONS AREN’T ALWAYS CORRECT

I’ll be the first to admit, when I watched the first few episodes of the American Office, my leeriness was confirmed. Jim (played by the now famous John Krasiniski, a native – like the writer/actor of the show B.J. Novak – of Newton, MA) just parroted Tim (Martin Freeman), and as a mere mimicker of the British actor, I wasn’t impressed. It was worse for Carell, however, as he was taking on Gervais’s role. All eyes were on him. While Gervais received gushing praise (one critic, as I mentioned previously, lauded, “the show is perfect.”), American TV critics, not surprisingly, reviewed Carell’s initial performance with either tepid (ahem) approval or outright despair, the latter bemoaning the fact that he was channeling Gervais and in a decidedly not-so-subtle manner. Read More »