Claire v. Marc: Lady Gaga is hot v. Lady Gaga is not hot

I'd hit that...but she'd probably hit me back.

Claire: Lady Gaga is hot

Marc: Lady Gaga is NOT hot.

Claire: I challenge you to a blog duel

Marc: I accept, you harlot.

Today Journalism Equals… pt. II

for Molly, journalism equals….

1. playing in front of a green screen

2. trying to get free Lady Gaga tickets

3. debating whether Sebastian was a crab or lobster

for Claire, journalism equals…

1. lying on a Nielsen survey to make it seem like print media is doing better than it is

2. arguing whether Flounder or Sebastian would be considered Ariel’s sidekick

3. realizing that the song Me & Julio Down by the Schoolyard name checks Newsweek and liking that song a little bit less.

Three’s Company

But who is Janet?

We realized that this blog features a lot of two-person interaction—me and Molly, or Molly and Mazall, sometimes even Mazall and Aggy—but rarely have you delighted in seeing three of us together. It’s a shame, really. We have a a bond, a dynamic chemistry not often found among friends. We’re like Martin and Lewis (and Mazall), French and Saunders (and Mazall), or Fry and Laurie (and Mazall). To remedy that (also because it is a workday and we don’t have time for real blogging), here is a brief example of what happens when your three favorite Havers-of-Internets get together:

Things We Don’t Hate

HAPPY THANKSGIVING!

Everyone who isn’t a flaming Liberal is thankful for the obvious things: democracy, family, bacon, etc.  That’s why, this Thanksgiving, Claire and I are concentrating on the meaningless, trivial things that help get us from one day to the next.  Because THAT, my friends, is what the holidays are all about.

1. TV on DVD, Hulu, Netflix, On Demand…basically TV anywhere other than actual TV
2. When friends stay logged into Facebook on our computers
3. Compressed gas spray cans for your keyboard
4. Ridiculous PR pitches
5. White wine
6. Inanimate object Halloween costumes
7. Red wine

Amazing and Incredible Halloween Costume Ideas

WOW! That's EXACTLY what Snow White looked like!!!!!

This is my version of philanthropy. Also, I’d like people to just come to the party and stop asking me for costume ideas. As always, leave your own suggestions below.

FOR FEMALES:

1. Frida Kahlo
2. The Fandago “Woman”
3. Mona Lisa
4. Anna Wintour
5. Julia Child
6. Octo-Mom

I’m With the Band

On Friday, Molly and I went to see the Avett Brothers at the Filmore East, also known
as Irving Place (although why you’d rename a historic venue is beyond me). They played their best songs, Molly got a good view of her favorite Avett, and I only complained about my $10 watered down drink once. It was a great show. At least, we think it was a great show. We’re not really sure because we spent most of the time criticizing people in the audience.

Think they're related?

There’s something about a music concert that turns otherwise normal people into raging d-bags. It doesn’t matter whether you’re seeing Slipknot or Paula Cole, the audience is always the same. There’s the person who cuts in front of you. The person who spills his drink on you. The person who shouts “WOO!!!” directly in your ear. Molly and I started cataloguing our annoyances and we came up with a list of 12 awful concert moments.

This Week in Janice: Reader Feedback

I have three backlogged posts, one featuring Janice, one featuring Marc, and one featuring a new character who has known me longer, and better, than pretty much anyone. (Well, except Janice.) Marc and Molly are being all cranky about not having his Either/Ors up yet—in fact, earlier this evening I received a very graphic text message regarding the source of my recent blog-laziness, to which I took great offense—but you know what? I spent all day today hungover volunteering at a soup kitchen and there’s not a damn thing they can do about it. I thought about posting Marc’s stuff, but then I received these two emails from Janice and they were too good, I had to put them up ASAP. Sorry, Marc. You still have to wait. Maybe tomorrow.

Background: Before she got old, my mom was really into music. She loved Jimi Hendrix and Pearl Jam and anything featuring a lot of electric guitar. When I was six, I told her I liked the Beatles so she bought me “Revolver.” When I was 11, she came home with Liz Phair and They Might Be Giants CDs because she’d read an article about how they were the “it” bands played on college radio stations. One could argue that it’s inappropriate to give a 6th grader an album that contains a song called “Fuck and Run,” but then one clearly doesn’t know my mother.

To this day, I’m missing two Wilco albums because she stole them.

Janice gets her make-up done

She’s a Lady

So I’m trying to make a mix CD for the Timeys (What? Do you and your co-workers not pour your hearts out to each other in the form of hand-selected mix tapes? Oh.) but I can’t because every song I listen to just sounds like Lady Gaga’s “Poker Face.”

Um, you've got a little something under your eye...

I really like pop music. I don’t mean Top 40, although that can be good sometimes—Beyonce’s “Ring the Alarm” is arguably the best female pop song of the past 15 years—I just mean pop music in general. You know, anything that is a short, rhythmic, and tasty; the musical equivalent of eating a cheeseburger. The early Beatles were pop. So were the Supremes. M.I.A. is guerilla pop. Kanye West is rap pop. Le Tigre is I-hate-men punk pop. Peaches is sex pop. David Bowie wasn’t pop except for sometimes, when he was. Anyway, my point is that a lot of songs are pop songs. The term is vague and all-encompasing; to call someone “pop” is not an insult. I mean, look at Beyonce and her “my robot hand needs a wedding ring” anthem. That whole performance, from the beat to the dance routine, nothing short of amazing.