I'm secretly the reason behind A-Rod's divorce

Living abroad for essentially the past year has shown me what a prudish, hypocritical country America is when it comes to censorship. There are prime time shows on network channels in America that I get embarrassed for while watching with my parents, teenagers wearing ridiculously skimpy clothes (no wonder pregnancy runs rampant), and video games violent enough to gross out this Sopranos fan. And yet there was such a brouhaha over those Legal Seafoods T ads in Boston. (For those of you who don't know about this, the restaurant Legal Seafoods posted "fresh" fish advertisements on the sides of subway trains such as "Hey lady, I've seen smaller noses on a swordfish," "This trolley gets around more than your sister," and "This conductor has a face like a halibut." T employees complained about the latter ad and said it was offensive.) So when I see advertisements in London such as the AussieBum one below, I can only shake my head and think that it'll be another 20 years before something like this would appear on Newbury Street.

Last Sunday I did a lot of walking around parts of the city I've never been to. This was really fun, but would have been even more enjoyable had it not been raining the whole damn time.

Worn out road.
Sunday afternoon I went to the Bossa Nova festival on Southbank. I was all excited to eat some delicious Brazilian food, but all I found was chicken wrapped in triangular dough pockets and deep-fried; it didn't look all that appetizing. I did manage to see some B-list British celebrity, though, so that was exciting.
This dude braved the Thames shore all in the name of sand sculpting. Gross. (3 hours later it was covered in water when the tides turned.)

The best part of the festival was the free concert Nouvelle Vague put on. I heard about these guys a couple months ago. They're a band from France who mainly do cover songs but revamped with a bossa nova beat underneath. They're incredible and I'm in love with them.

The writing's on the wall

I must warn everyone older than 35 that the following graffiti is quite liberal and anti-George Bush.

My good friend Jon Gezotis will appreciate this one. If you have a free afternoon, go ahead and try to convince Jon why it makes sense to believe in God.


I swear I didn't notice the phallic imagery in this one until after I had uploaded the picture. I was more enthralled with the instruction to watch a YouTube video.

No comment necessary here.
He's not a well-liked man. That's all I can say.

I love smiling. Smiling’s my favorite.

The amount of grown men I see drinking from juice boxes is disturbing. The fact that the juice boxes are purple certainly doesn’t help matters.

The helpdesk guy on the phone from Monday morning had a nose whistle. Normally I would find this annoying, but for some reason, that morning I found it soothing. This is not to say I want the world to be filled with nose whistlers. That would just be insanity. And something out of a horror film.

I’m pretty sure America has crossed the line. We came close a couple years ago when Fox created the show Man Versus Beast. But we were still on this side of tolerable. But Monday night, Howie Mandel was more than happy to skip, jump, and obsessive-compulsively trot his way across that line. Because George Bush, the President of the United States, appeared on Deal or No Deal. Oh Howie. Why couldn’t you stop at “Walk Like A Man?” Please tell me I’m not the only one who sees how very, very wrong this is.

I was going to write about how great it is that London has a seemingly endless amount of amazing neighborhoods to explore, but when I tried to form my thoughts into words, I realized I suck at writing seriously and what I had written was crap. Sorry.

*music – My eyes are glued, my lips are chaffed My legs are prickling, and plus I’m stinky today

Muppets and handcuffs

Susan gave me her rash. She broke out in Ireland and I think it was because of faulty Irish laundry detergent. I was horrified every time I looked at her and thanked my lucky stars that my arms weren’t covered in hideous red bumps like hers. But then we got back to London and I started noticing those same red bumps on my hand, my arm, and, bizarrely, on the bottom of my foot. I hope you’re all still friends with me after reading this confession.

I bought a new camera. A fancy pants camera that I will keep under my pillow at night and whisper sweet-nothings to each morning when I wake up. It’s not here yet (my parents are bringing it next week), but I am already planning our lives together. There will be much canoodling and tears of joy. I can’t wait!

Blurb in today’s LondonPaper:
“Amy Winehouse isn’t going to be around long unless she sorts herself out quick.”
SAYS KEITH RICHARDS – AND, AMY, HE SHOULD KNOW

I watched the movie ‘Bobby’ tonight. What an eye-opener that was… I can’t even imagine how helpless people must have felt in those few years in the mid-60’s. Out of a country filled with hatred, oppression, and war, we were lucky to have such strong, true, and great leaders emerge. With each speech these amazing orators gave, people let themselves hope just a little bit more, and there was finally a light at the end of the tunnel. But one by one, those leaders were killed. I know that if I had been alive when Kennedy was shot, I would have thought it couldn’t get any worse. I would have already felt helpless and hopeless. But then Martin Luther King would be shot and I would once again feel like I was at the lowest point possible. And then Robert Kennedy. What were my parents feeling each time they heard about these assassinations? Were they afraid this country would never stand on two feet again? Was there a general fear that the country couldn’t move forward without sacrificing great men in the process? Did they stop letting themselves hope for the best? There were so many incredible things that happened in that decade of American history. But I can’t help but think that they will forever be overshadowed by the horror created by Oswald, Ray, and Sirhan, and all I can do is cry to think about it.