I’ve Got This, You Guys

Crystal Head Vodka: Filtered through diamonds and crushed hopes for the future. Just kidding, that would be super expensive. The part about the diamonds is true, though.

Suffice it to say … and by that I mean … what I’m really trying to get across here is … listen:  As you may have guessed by now, everyone who once ran this blog is dead.

However, you would have guessed wrong.  Just as wrong as the first few hundred guesses I made for the password to get back into my WordPress account.  Which is to say, super wrong.  You see, I had to guess, because I couldn’t actually remember my password.  Look, it’s been a rough few months you guys, okay?  I’ve had a lot on my plate and I’ve been on a bit of a self-improvement kick and also I’ve been drinking a lot of Dan Akroyd’s Crystal Head Vodka, which kind of negated the self-improvement kick but whatever, screw you guys I’m a grown ass woman and I can do what I want, unless what I want is to take down The Easy Mode, formerly known as ThreeVue, which I can’t, obviously, because if I could, I would have done it by now.

Despite these slight hiccups, and the continued survival of The Easy Mode, I’m back and ready to entertain and cajole and generally unenthuse at abandon.  Oh I know.  Try and contain your excitement.

This Is, In Fact, Completely Terrible: Late to the Party Edition: TheEasyMode.com

This is somehow related.

Saboteurs!  False Prophets!  Sheep in Wolves’ Clothing!

Those nincompoops (or should I say… THREEcompoops?!) over at Threevue dot com thought they could escape our ire by changing their address.   That’s funny, because my ex-boyfriend thought the same thing when he moved across the country, got a new phone number, legally changed his name, and took out that restraining order.  If shenanigans like that didn’t stop me from sending him dolls made out of my own hair, baptized in samples of his old bathwater, then it sure as shingles isn’t going to get me to stop calling Rascall, Marcus, and el Tigre out on their shit.

At the moment, they’re running under the name The Easy Mode.  As a nom de guerre, I suppose I can’t knock it.  However, dear readers, you’ll be pleased to know that in their frantic strides to attempt to live up to Twovue standards, they’ve hired on two more staff writers, Stan and George.  I’m pretty sure those names are right, but as usual, I can’t be bothered to make sure.  If they won’t acknowledge our superiority with regard to precedence as well as quality, then what do I owe them?  I’ll tell you, reader.  Nothing but grief.  A big, steaming pile of grief.  Drizzled with revenge.  And topped with blogging.  Rich, creamy, blogging.

Look.  I’ve been really ill for like a week, and I’m so hopped up on NyQuil right now that I’m almost prepared to let this whole situation fly.  Not to mention I’m watching The Hunger, and I’m a little distracted by this whole Susan Sarandon, Katherine Deneuve love scene thing.  Make that a lot distracted.  All I’m saying is, you can’t just change your name and expect everything to just what was I saying?  This is a really great movie.  Now they’re in a pool?

Awesome.

Buzzed Jogging is Drunk Jogging

Ooh, you have a Slanket too? How utterly urbane. Come here, hat-hair... let's get cozy. Literally.

I like how in this advertisement, the guy wearing the Slanket has been shunned by his friends/companions/significant other, and is sitting quite alone. Because he’s at a sporting event. Wearing a f-ing Slanket. The beer does not cover for the fact that you are wearing glorified feetie-pyjamas, sir. Luckily the Slanket is not only impervious to cool drafts, but the cold sting of ostracization as well.

In other news, I’ve not been home for more than a week, and have had to snatch access to the internet whenever it comes up, such as the public library. Where a man who looks like the evil brother of Santa Claus told me I had my file sharing on. From behind some bookshelves. Like Wilson, from Home Improvement. Or Deep Throat.

Do me a favor and let me know if you guys see any saucy pictures of me floating around on the internet. The only one who should make a profit off of those ultimately disappointing boudoir photographs I have stored on my hard drive is yours truly. And don’t give me that shit about how the warm feeling in my heart that comes with sharing my assets with others should be payment enough – my Animated Hitch Critter, Slanket, NFL Forest Faces, and Car Antlers did NOT pay for themselves, people. SkyMall is not cheap, and neither is the lifestyle that comes along with my sophisticated tastes in understated douchebaggery.

Neither an Explanation Nor an Apology

nom nom nom

Listen: I woke up this morning with the worst hangover I have ever had in my entire life. Ever. Whether it was due to the homemade beer I imbibed, the multitude of microbrews I sampled, or the few choice sips of wild turkey which are still haunting me as I type this in the form of disembodied wafts from some kind of demonesque sense-memory, the three hours I spent in the bathroom this morning have really given me a shift in paradigm. I feel as though I have a new lease on life, so to speak.

Naturally, this means that I have a lot to share with you, my dear audience.

I am sure that my absence has caused many a sorrowful heart among our readership, and I now hope to rectify that by breaking down the mind-numbingly dull things that have kept me from you all these past weeks.

LET US BEGIN:

1. While driving on the freeway, I saw the man in front of me switch lanes and then use his side-mirror to crack open a hard-boiled egg.* This threw me into a momentary existential crisis.
2. A pollster called my house and asked to speak to a male between the ages of 18 and 32. I replied, “…We don’t have one of those here.” Only later did I realize this was unnecessarily awkward.
3. I waited on line for hours with hundreds of people to see a highly anticipated show and was then unceremoniously turned away, but also discovered I still remember how to play MASH.
4. Tried jackfruit carnitas.
5. Cake.
6. Was publicly insulted and humiliated by a TA. He’s DEFINITELY not getting an inappropriate love note now.
7. The handle on my toilet fell off and ended up in the toilet bowl, whereupon I flushed it in a drunken, angry stupor, because I was unable to retrieve it. Upon further contemplation, I find this very meta, not unlike the Ouroboros – the snake eating it’s own tail.
8. Lost two wrestling matches.
9. Found out that going off caffeine for more than 24 hours gives me blinding headaches and nausea.
10. Tried to get myself back into my locked apartment with a credit card. As a result, I was still locked out, but now have minus one working credit card.
11. Panic attacks.
12. Fully embraced my quasi-creepy love for theme/love hotels. More on that later.

Really, this post doesn’t answer any questions, but it also tells you no lies. I’ll be back soon.

In conclusion: thank God for Rebecca Gayheart, who is singlehandedly keeping this website afloat with her inexplicable draw.

*This is legal, but apparently answering my phone is crossing the line.

texes to tyler:

The rolling of the dock was a little like a lullaby. With his eyes trained on the horizon, the boy strained his vision and light bending through the moisture of the sea air let him see beyond. So it continued horizon after horizon until, through a haze, he happened upon a boy rolling on a dock. He waved his hand, and in a blur watched a moment catch up with itself.

threevue’s reign of terror

I forgot to mention this last week, when it would have been even remotely relevant, but some of you may know that Threevue.com’s Tyler recently attended a couple of video game blog reader meet-ups. I went to the Kotaku meet-up at the Golden Gopher downtown (which was pretty swank), and Tyler seemed to be on his best behavior then because my prying eyes were there, you know… prying.

However, later on in the week he attended the Joystiq meet-up, and apparently forgot to pack some manners.

Here he is, accosting some young man in the blogging biz. It appears as if that young man is searching for something on his iPhone. Maybe directions on how to procure a restraining order?

"You WILL type faster on that lifestyle phone. And you will LIKE it."

Look, I’m not going to sit here and point fingers, unlike some people (see above). I think what we can ALL agree on, is how, despite the fact that Threevue is a general disgrace to the V-U-E name, they sure do know how to grow a mustache.

How to Start a Book

“The cradle rocks above an abyss, and common sense tells us that our existence is but a brief crack of light between two eternities of darkness.”

Vladi…calm down Baby!  Now let’s talk about that young lady you were dating.

 

Sun God 2009: The Pillowfight to End All Pillowfights

 

12: 55-1:30: Theory of Funkativity

Let’s get this party started! Upon procuring copious amounts of alcohol, from the general store, and feasting upon local fare in the form of sub-par fish tacos, Danielle and I returned to the batcave to commence the ritual of noon-day drinking. Beginning with badly made mojitos, nuts n’ berries, we had an impromptu fashion show, and waited for Kim to arrive.

 

1:45-2:45: The Cool Kids

Upon Kim’s arrival we continued the drinking ala mobile sprite bottle which we replaced with a concoction of vodka and seltzer water. Having disposed of unwanted rotten fruit (not a euphemism), we made our way to the bus stop near the apartment in an attempt to get to campus. The “party bus” arrived momentarily and we proceeded to finish our flask. We knew we were on the “party bus” if only because there was a sign that said “party bus”; a sign that was written with a Bic pen and then unceremoniously taped to the outside of the bus with cello tape. This was in direct contradiction to the signs equally unceremonious in their distribution that stipulated “no alcohol on the bus.” What’s a girl to think?

Eternal Recurrence of the Shame

A friend of mine had a new roommate who was in the Japanese antique game. Somebody asked how he fell into that line of work. After some quiet deliberation and a couple strokes of his scraggly meth beard he replied ‘serendipity’. ‘Everything happens for a reason. ‘This could be a sign.’ I just wish Javier Bardem would swoop down and with that paradoxically hateful and indifferent voice say You have no Idea what you’re talking about.

Or at least that’s what I thought until I saw the following. Stick with me. There were two women driving in opposite directions and as they passed you could see that the two, in a stroke of pack culture atavism, chose one kind of fabric for two very different purposes. One chose it for her seat covers, the other for her blouse. Smashing. In passing there was a moment where they were one, a chimera of bad taste just aching to fuck up my walk to Stater Brothers. Not only were these ladies gorgeous, but they made me think. They made me think.

Twovue’s Progeny

What we have accomplished.

First off: Let me just say that my fellow Twovuers and I are all SO VERY EXCITED about the upstart of our new “blog”.

As this so-called “digital age” takes hold in our mainstream society (i.e., not just in “geek parlors”, “LAN gatherings”, “Cozplay clubs”, and other nerd hidey-holes around the globe), the “BLOGOSPHERE” will become (in my humble opinion), an unavoidable and FRIGHTENINGLY interactive part of YOUR everyday life.

On this, the day of the dawn of TWOVUE, I’d like to take a moment to thank all of our prospective readers, comment-slingers, fans, stalkers, and idolaters for taking a moment from examining the interwebs’ vastly extensive purview of nudie sites and other blogs with “well researched” and “coherent” content to bask in the glory of our orgiastic intellectual wellsprings.  Drink deeply, little ones.  Drink deeply and TRULY LIVE.

And now, let the proverbial debutante ball begin.