Oh boy, have I found a naughty, naughty device. No, it’s nothing sexual. Perv!

While perusing the web, as usual, I innocently stumbled upon the SnoopStick. (Ha, now that I type out the name, it does sound kind of dirty.)

Anyway, getting back on track here, the SnoopStick is a USB flash drive type of device that is supposed to be utilized by parents to monitor there kids’ internet behavior or by a suspicious employer to check out their employees daily web endeavors. I however, sick an twisted as I am, think it would be an excellent way to stalk your boyfriend or crush’s emailing and IMing activity. I know, I am one crazy individual. But you know you’re intrigued. So read on.

This is how it works. Simply plug it into the computer you want to monitor and run the setup program to install the SnoopStick monitoring components. It only takes 60 seconds! This is trouble. Best of all, you don’t have to be worried the person will find out you’re tracking them because the monitoring components are totally hidden. Wow, that’s even creepier.

So when you’re ready to get into full on stalker mode, plug your little stick into any windows based computer (internet ready of course) and you’ll be able to see what websites he is visiting, who he is chatting with on IM and what they are chatting about (!) and you’ll be able to read emails as they’re being read or written. This is complete madness, people.

For all of the dirty details (and to pick up your own) click here.

Basketball isn’t really my thing. I think it might have to do with the fact that every time I tried out for the team in middle school, I got rejected — being 5′2″ hasn’t been a walk in the park.

But since it’s March Madness and every guy on campus can’t get enough of their “brackets” and games, I thought I’d get in on the action … because I need to meet someone new and cute to make out with. So I’ve come up with a few tactics that will make me an insider to this male-dominated fiasco.

I don’t want to appear like a poser and not be part of a pool. So I’ve created my own. It hasn’t been easy to convince my girlfriends to participate, but they’re in. And I scored a few guys too — some of them are part of like 3 pools. That’s just way too much for me. So how did I pick my teams and fill out my brackets you might be wondering? Well since I know barely anything about this sport, I picked teams based on their jersey colors. Yeah, it’s totally not the point but hey, a guy’s gonna think it’s cute that you’re trying, right? Read More »

My dear, sweet Brit-Brit. It has been a tumultuous and, may I say, “chaotic” eight years since you have entered my life. Seems like it was just yesterday when I rushed home from school and turned on TRL, hosted by Carson Daly a la his “fat” years, only to find solace in you and your not-so-innocence. There you were, like a reliable old friend, nestled in between 98 Degrees at Number 3 and those damned Backstreet Boys, holding down the top spot once again. By the way, what ever happened to Howie D? Does anyone know? Anyone? If you’re out there, Howie D, I miss you….

Anyway, back then, I was a young and naïve high school freshman in search of life’s meaning. And, okay, you never really got around to the answer, per say. You never sang of spiritual philosophies, or spoke of human rights or family values. But to me – to ME, you were all I needed to get by in a world where, well….none of that stuff really matters at all! I mean, come on. Who wouldn’t take “E-Mail My Heart” over “An Enquiry Into the Nature and Causes of the Wealth of Nations”, by Adam Smith, the Scottish economist and moral philosopher of the late 1700’s? Bo-ring. Read More »

Thank you, ABC for airing a brand-spanking new episode of my favorite show. I feel like it’s been like a month since I had the pleasure of sitting down, cheap wine in hand, to view an episode. It’s been hard, but here it is, already Thursday and I made it through.

Anyway, I think a recap is in order. The last episode was crazy. Everyone’s personal issues surfaced — Meredith survived her brush with death by coming to terms with her relationship fears, George and Callie told off Izzie for being unsupportive of their marriage and Cristina revealed the source of her tough exterior – she watched her father die when she was only 9 years old. Is it me? Or did Grey’s just get a whole lot deeper?

Some think that the ferry crash series of episodes was kind of random. But I think we definitely got to learn the truths of each character. I must say I kind of feel closer to them now, as corny as that sounds.

What I disliked about the “Meredith comes back to life” episode was how unrealistic it was. Come on. Someone who’s been deprived of oxygen for that long cannot walk away scott-free. How bout a little brain damage? Obviously, Meridith is good-as-new. That’s TV for you I guess.

Here’s to the highlight of my night, Grey’s Anatomy.

Well, it’s not that interesting. BUT my beloved social networking site, that both entertains and keep me from getting anything done, has added a photo organizing feature. (I know, it’s mind blowing.) So basically you can change the order in which your pics are displayed in your albums by dragging them into the desired sequence — which is nice since I don’t usually upload mine in order.

Finally, St. Patty’s day is almost here! The holiday that brings everyone together to celebrate the Gods who invented beer.

Or something like that.

Whatever it is, I’m ready: I’ve got my head to toe in festive green apparel – including a low cut green tank with that lacy green bra.

Of course I’m looking forward to the drinking-fest. The thing is I’m not into the green beer. I don’t need my teeth to match my shirt – gross.

So I’m trying something a little more classy this year. A sweet Irishy drink I invented … well, stole from some website. Here’s the recipe:

The Shamrock Shaker

1/2 oz Kahlua

1/2 oz milk

1/2 oz Amaretto

Edible green and gold powder for garnish (check out the cake aisle in the grocery store)

Pour the goods into a shaker with ice. Shake, shake, shake and strain it all into a martini glass. Sprinkle the powders on top (or decorate the rim with ‘em) and enjoy. Then do it again. And again.

Ah, the infamous makeover episode. I expected drama, I expected bad hair cuts but I wasn’t expecting there to be any candy or ice cream in the picture. Isn’t it against the model rule book that “one cannot partake in any activities or behavior that put one within inches of sweets”? Even though I found it to be a tad unsanitary and oddly sexual, it was a pretty cool shoot.

Of course a few girls expressed their bratty unsatisfaction with their new do’s — a.k.a. Jael and Brittany. I couldn’t believe that after like eight hours of getting a weave, Tyra demanded that it be taken out. Now poor Jael is left with barely any hair. And in this episode, she really couldn’t get a break. I guess learning that her friend overdosed put the whole hair thing in perspective. But seriously, losing your hair AND a friend in one day? Damn that’s rough.

Which brings me to Brittany, the winner of this week’s challenge. This girl was quite the complainer! Wah, wah, wah. I know I’ve never had a weave, so I can’t say that it isn’t painful. But I was so happy that someone literally slapped some sense into her. Thank you, Whitney.

Who do you think had the worst makeover?