Behold my Awesomeness



I have finally finished my portrait of my roommate Abbs, a soft and lovely girl. I painted her like someone that you imagine smells nice...and has bruises on her legs. I have started a new one of a cigar sucking androgyn. An athlete with long brown hair and polka dots. I am going to paint all the lovely girls of my acquaintance, so stay tuned. Oh, and if you happen to be one of these, do volunteer! And pull the sailor suit out of your closet and your crutches and your favorite underwear and purple eyeshadow and get your cans over to my house!

In other news of stunning feats, I cleaned my room. I have this barbie-like habit of changing my clothes five times a day, like "I should sort the mail...oh, I have just the outfit!" So my room ends up looking like Filene's Basement on a 50% clearance. Minus the hefty women jostling each other.

I am also pleased to report that I Feel F°!"§ing Awesome because I went to the gym yesterday and rowed 60 lbs, like, until I died. Then I came home and gorged on lasagna. Like Garfield. So I went back to the gym again today and redid my good work of yesterday. And I feel like I could kill someone with my bare hands. Like really overpower someone and strangle them while their blows across my chest grow weaker and weaker. ahem.

Hooray for feeling good!

It's time for sushi and sake. and violence.

-xo

Posted 7:38 PM by Lambchop

She's a brick house

Last night I went to the towniest bar on the entire planet with my sister-in-law. We watched a cover band, and overweight women throwing bras. I can't even make this funny. I get uncomfortable around people with bad hair.

We've given the heave-ho to the evil, deceitful apartment people. They are refunding our money, but hemming and hawing about reimbursing us for the storage fee for our crap for the month we stupidly waited. I am thinking of calling the local paper and asking for the Bone To Pick Department. Now it's off to look at ten or twenty apartments this afternoon. I am totally opening all the medicine cabinets and checking for water pressure.

Oh, confidential to Mr. Baby's parental units: I am sure you get lots of parenting advice, and maybe you've already done this, but don't you think it's time to photograph him in a roasting pan or a soup tureen? I mean before he gets too big. I can't tell you how often I fondly look back on my "kitten in the microwave" series and wish I'd thought to pose her in the toaster oven too. Now she's just plain huge.

-xxoo

Posted 1:32 PM by Licketysplit

Anniversary in the Vomitorium



Vomitola is celebrating its Very First Birthday! As we look back upon a whole year of gay porn star country singers, spectacular outfits, visits to the pope, and anal leakage, one has to marvel at the variety and depth of our experiences. Or one could content themselves with marveling at our sleek hairdos.

But it hasn't all been one grand binge 'n' purge! Vomitola has had its troubles, too. The deadlines, the screaming fights over which Queer Eye is our favorite, the endless offers of sex. Why, Kitty Winn is still in Rehab!

Running the show here is an intense drama. We wish to thank all of you who like to read about our triumphant shopping trips and our tumbles down flights of stairs. We do it all for you.

-xo with sugar on top

Posted 12:49 PM by Lambchop

Romeo and Juliet, they never felt this way I bet

Now I bring you garish tidings of the Valentine's Day candy retailing season. Vomitola loves you.

In other news, the Golden Globes were on last night! I think some people won some stuff. I was too busy eating my weight in cheese fries at the Outback, like a good American. Or as Mr. H said, "a good Australian." Heather obviously didn't catch the awards fever either, she was watching Das Boot and brandishing a trident. In the two seconds that I did see, Sofia Coppola accepted an award wearing flat shoes. Kudos.

I hope Nicole Kidman did not win anything for that wretched Cold Mountain. Mr. H has taken to mortifying me in public by repeating that clip where she says "I marry you, I marry you, I marry you," replete with bad falsetto southern accent. He doesn't understand why they keep showing that particular clip.

His take: "Is this movie about a retarded hot chick? Jude Law is thinking 'This hot chick is retarded! I am going to score!'"

I guess it's no more annoying than when the DeBeers ads are on around the holidays and he feels the need to hoot "I LOVE THIS WOMAN!" in parking lots.

-xxoo

Posted 6:12 PM by Licketysplit

Sooooo Good!



My house is a really great place to watch bad movies. Because we have a fireplace and a lot of ire. Last night offered Ghost Ship, a movie whose only exciting moment occurred in the first five minutes when a roomful of people are halved by a rope and then slide apart like so many wide-eyed steaks. The Movie was aware that it had nothing else, and let us enjoy it again as a flashback later on.

P.S. Julianne Margulies is not Sigourney Weaver. Even in her mondo-sportsbra.

It's another frostbitey day but I don't mind. Helen is going to come over and we are going to knit little caps with kitten ears on them. Then we are going to watch Squirm in between slippery mouthfuls of lo mein.

Someone come with me to Lisbon. We'll eat spicy fish and get low octane New Englander tans and draw pictures of comically oversized genitals in the sand on the beach. We'll go to a museum. Pretty please?

Posted 2:31 PM by Lambchop

Let's All Meet up in the Year 2000



Herr Trinkwasser had a Pulparty last night. It's great to get together and say We are Obsessed. We all put on sunglasses and the boys did their Jarvis imitations. There was deep trilling and manic shaking of hips. Oh Jarvis and your teetering glass of Whiskey. Oh Jarvis and your hands that dart like white birds.

They call me "chip whore" because I can consume my own weight in nachos.

I sat in a corner With Girls and invented vicious new rumors. They twirled sparkly swizzle sticks and snarky comments.

We Love Life!

Posted 12:47 PM by Lambchop

Oh My Goodness!



Ever just feel unloved? No, you are far too amazing? Well, if you ever do, just cut out Poor Little Rich Girl and make her dance to this perky little tune:

When I say it's day
you say itīs night
When I say itīs black
you say it's white
Tell me,
what's wrong with you Baby?

At times I ought to hate you
You make me so blue
But honestly I can't hate you
when you smile at me the way you do
Oh My Goodness!

I don't know what it is thats so irresistible- the sailor suit, the squeaky voice, boing boing curls, or charmingly sucking on one's pinky. In uncertain times, you better go with all four.

Posted 6:40 PM by Lambchop

Bela Lugosi's Dead

Never you mind my earlier ramblings! I've gained purchase, a new lease on life. After my nightly Nyquil swig that allows me to breathe, I looked up cough syrup addiction because Crazy John told me that teens the world over guzzle tussin because the active ingredient causes hallucinations. I found all sorts of vile cocktail recipes involving tussin. Most of those were up there with the "Listo [Listerine] and OJ" and "Listo and Pepsi" favored by some of the homeless population. Apparently you have to drink a good six ounces, so I think I don't have to worry.

Then I found this paean to tussin addiction, set way back in 1997. A proto blog. It involves goths, Charlottesville, VA, and the charming effect of hyperlinking every other word. Why, there's even a glossary! This site should be laminated. Even the links are poetic: "Amy-"Gothic Amy"; we slept together once." And there's a photo gallery. Ah, the internet, fresh with dew.

-xxoo

Posted 12:39 AM by Licketysplit

It's Thursday

I thought it was Wednesday, I had to check! Being a woman of leisure is not all it's cracked up to be. First, I haven't encountered any actual leisure yet. Instead, I'm mired somewhere else entirely. Oh right, Dracut, Massachusetts. I keep telling myself it would be better if a) I weren't working on a million piddly, stressful freelance jobs, and b) I weren't living out of suitcases (more like off piles on the floor), and c) I weren't still secreting ghee in my lungs. Also, since I "work at home," everyone assumes I am doing nothing all day. So I scrabble around and prepare dinner for four, like a proper hausfrau. My revenge? Lots of roughage. My poor victims run from the table, groaning, filled to the gills with brown rice and broccoli.

Also, I now know that I definitely couldn't stay home with a baby, although I suppose a baby would be more interactive than the cat. Even the cat is depressed; she deposits herself in the chair closest to the radiator and lolls there all day, not moving a muscle, not even for mousie.

So my question is: at what point do I give up and take off for the Mexican Riviera? Do advise.

-xxoo

Posted 10:51 PM by Licketysplit

Drive by

This is just to say...I would like to be done coughing, I would like it if my clothes were not housed in trash bags on the floor, and I am a big fan of the serial comma. David rightly spits upon the AP.

Pop Culture round up: certain readers found The Story of Nicholas inappropriate fodder for MLK day. No offense was intended to Dr. King's legacy, and I thought the story spoke for itself. I guess just wait until February; we'll surely have a treatise on how all Black people look alike for Black History Month.

John Kerry, huh. I love it when the media gets things all wrong.

American Idol is starting again. Paula Abdul's eyes seem to be migrating to opposite sides of her face. The effect made me yell out "Oh my God, she's wearing a Halle Berry mask!"

The Apprentice is a good show if you've ever worked with marketing goons who are into "teambuilding." I believe it is on Wednesday nights. I totally fire people the same way as Donald Trump. "This has been a really hard decision...no it hasn't, you're fired!"

-xxoo

Posted 5:43 PM by Licketysplit

A story

It is a terrible story. The Story of Nicholas. (as told by Mr. H and his parents)

Mother: One day the boys came home, and they asked if their friend Nicholas could come over and play. I said "who the hell is Nicholas?"
Mr. H: So we pointed out the window, at the kid in the yard.
Mother: I said "Isn't that Johnny? His name is Johnny. Why are you calling him Nicholas?"
Mr. H: We said "we don't know."
Mother: Then I realized-- and I said "Don't call him that anymore, his name is Johnny, call him that."
Me: I don't get it.
Mother: He was the only black kid in Acton!
Father: sotto voce, in loud restaurant: Nigga lips!
Me: Oh my God.
Mr. H: I wondered why I'd say "Hi Nicholas!" and he'd hit me!
Me: *snorted Chardonnay out of my nose*
Mr. H: The big kids used to tell the little kids to call him that, and we thought they were saying Nicholas.

Poor Johnny.

-xxoo

Posted 8:39 PM by Licketysplit

Frau In Exile



Some of you have been asking "where in the H-E-double-hockeysticks is Lambchop?" The answer is Maui, of course. In an evening gown. Like Tina Louise.

For those of you who prefer reality, and some of you actually purport to, I am still hackiliciously ill. I almost took a day off work. My pal Stu offered to drive me in, however, and so I put on my fur hat and 12 degrees below zero sure does interesting things. We were off to a merry start, breathing thick plumes of vapor and fiddling with the radio, but the joke was on us. We had a FLAT. I did finally make it, thanks to the umcomplaining speed with which Stu changed the tire. It is possible to get through a situation like that without ranting a vile stream of oaths. Who knew?

I worked two hours of overtime just so I could get a complimentary taxi ride home.

Unfortunately, there went my ride to go see my friend's gallery opening in New Haven. My old pal Chris Mir is among my favorite living painters. Plus, he is really hot, which everyone should be if they can help it. I will fill you in when This Charming Man opens again in New York.

Aside from my adventure yesterday, I have been keeping to my room, because when I laugh, I am bent over in a coughing fit and its getting a bit too urchin-y. So I will emerge at some point, swan-like and breathing velvet. See you then!

-xo

Posted 10:18 AM by Lambchop

Put on a little makeup, makeup, make sure they get your good side, good side



Brain sandwiches still on some menus, via Salon.

A picture is worth a thousand words.

As you can see from the image above (not the sandwich, the other one!), I have Inner Beauty, oh yes I do. But I've also been having a wicked case of the Mondays, and I realized last night that this is directly correlated to how long I've been neglecting to apply makeup! Sure, there were other traumatic events, like a half-assed moving/living situation, illness, and job loss. But honestly, it all comes down to the upward curl of my lashes, the highlight on my brow bone. I was a fool to think I had no one to impress, because in doing so I've failed to impress myself.

So let this serve as a warning: spackle ye cheekbones while ye may. Go get a haircut, and a real job, lest you find yourself planted on the couch wearing sweats for the next 8 months, drooling as Dr. Phil chastises you for eating the Kraft Dinner cheese packets right out of the box.

-xxoo

Posted 11:22 AM by Licketysplit

I'm OK, you're OK

A flash of peripheral motion caught my eye out the window, and I looked up to see a red-tailed hawk on the ground, bending and bobbing over something. Then it swooped off, clutching the limp dangling body of a squirrel. Stupid squirrel, of course you're going to show up against white snow. Duh. My mother used to dress my sister and I in bright colors, to avoid hunters, she said, but maybe she was trying to attract hawks.

I owe this nature hour to the backyard of Mr. H's parents' house, where we're still bunking. The evil building management people say our new place will be open for business on February 1, and that the holdup is the state elevator inspection people. I wonder if they have heard the phrase "cross my palm with silver." It seems to be indicated. I have also heard of a person called a "permit expediter." Apparently they hand out $100 bills all day at City Hall. Maybe this doesn't work with a state agency, although I don't see why it wouldn't.

Some alert and concerned readers have asked if Lambchop and I are both stark, raving mad. I would have to say we've both seen better days, but in many ways no more so than usual. She handles the mania, and I am in charge of ennui. You see, we are a team! We both might fancy a trip to someplace warm, involving umbrella drinks!

-xxoo

Posted 4:04 PM by Licketysplit

Apathy Level: Bartleby



Since my lifeforce got sapped by showing up every day to a dying husk of an office to do nothing, I've been a bit weary. Yesterday I had a pitched 30 minute battle with myself re: whether or not I should get up to use the bathroom.

I had to get a second opinion. The person I tapped felt that I *should* definitely get up and go. He or she was scandalized to envision any sort of elimination outside of tiled surroundings. Still, I wasn't convinced.

I started to wonder "If I sit here long enough, will I just go ahead and go, or will my bladder explode? Does toilet-training override basic biological need?" Sometimes when I'm walking down the street, maybe to go to the subway, I also think about what would happen if I just stopped moving. I'd never get home. I might eventually freeze on the street, like some sort of mythological unfortunate. What does it feel like when you just can't push yourself any farther? How do you know when you're licked?

Epilogue: Did I go to the bathroom? I'm not saying. Just don't check the plants in the corner.

-xxoo

Posted 11:48 AM by Licketysplit

Hospital Johnny



In a grim display of foreshadowing, I watched the grade B Zombie Nightmare last night. This morning found me arising at an unholy hour to go to the radiologist. I found myself sitting in a little Kabine with a bench and a mirror and a Barium shake. I lay on a table that tilted me like a bottle of pop to shake my contents. The cute technician took photos of my small intestine. He let me keep the plastic barium shake bottles with the built in crazy straw. They have pictures of Tracts on them. I wiped the chalk from my mouth and put on lipgloss. I think the pale blue hospital johnny suits me.

I want to go blonde and learn to play the harp.
I want to do portraits of all my friends ( I am working on a smashing one!)

I have learned something valuable- on the train, people tend to give a person room when they are drinking out of a bottle with a picture of a Tract on it.

A narsty bank teller refused to give me money on false pretenses, and the replacement card still has not arrived, leaving me stone broke at lunchtime after having to fast before my appt.

This evening I came home to be washed in bill collection threats- they toppled menacingly from my tray over my head, like a bucket of pig's blood on prom night.



The last thing I consumed before my pre-radiology fast was a flute of champagne.

-xo

Posted 8:34 PM by Lambchop

désordre affectif saisonnier



Je sombre dans le puits profond de mon âme pourrie.

(I sink in the deep well of my rotten heart.)

Posted 3:06 PM by Licketysplit

Just because



Mr. H has a Dennis Kucinich AIM icon, and so do I. So every conversation must begin:
Hello Dennis Kucinich, I'm Dennis Kucinich. Say that enough times and it loses all meaning.

Go Kucinich, Go.

I wish there were a Dennis Kucinich AIM bot to talk to. I guess I could pretend RecipeBuddie is Dennis Kucinich.

That's not an endorsement, he's a bit tetched. But that doesn't mean I don't like him. And I like YOU too. There, aren't we off to a good start? It's snowing upwards outside my window. There is always an updraft in that alley.

-xxoo

Posted 12:16 PM by Licketysplit

Come away with me... to Erotic Ireland



Pointless search terms clip show, past month or so:

bea arthur
girlhood
john currin
kitty winn
a magzine about littering
boymeat
brazillian flip-flop
conway savage
cowgirls
curlers
dior ipod cover
green tea anal leakage
guatemalan ponchos
hello my honey hello my baby
how to get lizzie mcguire hairstyles
how to papasan chair problem cushion slip
carson kressley horse
marabou christmas tree
pink marabou tree
nine layer dip recipe
snake and jake's
pop you in the pooper
3 dots on knuckle tattoo
fair spanish ladies
a list of all the lipsmackers
boston cat lady heidi erickson
amex centurion card picture

If there is a rumor about Carson Kressley and a horse, please send me detailed mail. I am all a-twitter, does it mean Catherine the Great style cavorting, or a heroin problem? Although I doubt Carson would do anything so bad for the complexion. If you find out how to do your hair just like Lizzie McGuire, let me know that as well. If your papasan is slipping all over the place, try not having sex in it. And remember, we are tops in anal leakage.

-xxoo

Posted 1:20 PM by Licketysplit

It's more fun to commute

Yes, I have a new thing to bitch about. You must all be thrilled. But no one's making you read this, bucko.

I don't mind the length of the train ride to and from Lowell at all. I enjoy spacing out and staring at the industrial squalor out the window. Funny, there are no NICE houses along train tracks. Why is that?

But getting the train home in the evening is a bit of an ordeal, because it pits the regular "we don't run enough trains because we are capricious and terrible" MBTA against the German precision of the Commuter Rail, which is apparently run by another concern that contracts with the MBTA. And they are fined when they are late. I missed a 5:45 train by 2 minutes last night, and that was with a mad dash from the Green Line. I think I hurdled over a twin stroller and kicked a seeing eye dog on my way, but my only reward was the painful squeezing of my still-recovering lungs and the sight of a train pulling away.

Now you'd think allowing 35 minutes to travel 5 stops would be more than enough time to get me to North Station from Arlington street, but not when there are sports fans involved. It aroused my ire still further to see that the same people who insisted on jamming in the doors at each stop so the train could not proceed were even too early to be let into the Fleet Center proper. The escalators weren't even unlocked, but it was so important to be first in line for an event for which they hold ticketed seats that they could not cede their spot on the subway to someone who might be trying to just go home.

So I sat on a bench in the cold for an hour, under the monitor that details which train is at which track. It became a bit demoralizing because people would rush in and start swearing in my direction when they realized they were too late. Women tend to say "Jeez" or "Dammit!" but men really cut to the chase with "Shit" or "Fuck!"

Oh well. I am all for self-interest, except where it violates my self-interest. I try to remember "other people have lives too," but surely their lives are not as shiny and valuable as mine! Then again, I don't mind having the excuse to leave work any earlier. Today: 4:30, unless Alex goes ballistic as promised.

-xxoo

Posted 1:01 PM by Licketysplit

Lunchtime!



What is it about "women troubles" that makes besocked leggings and walks on the beach seem like a good idea?

Note to Helen: when lunching with the devil, use a LOOOOONG spoon. I'll be under the bridge with some garlic noodles, menacing a Dachshund.

-xo

Posted 12:44 PM by Lambchop

bang up indeed

I beg to differ, Lambchop, Allston did not used to be Berlin. That is wishful thinking on Allston's part. But everyone knows that Lowell is the new Prague! I am trying to convert people to move up there and open a transvestite disco with me. And I say "up there" like it's the great Arctic circle or something, really it's 30 minutes from Boston. Why, you could all hop on the train and be wearing a lampshade in my living room in no time. As soon as I have a living room. And some lamps. Speaking of lamps, Happy Fun Lamp has a spiffy new design.

Also, Lambuel forgot to mention one other shared fond spot for us: drinking under bridges. Why, when she was accepted into graduate school at Yale, what did we do? We shared a bottle of grape-flavored Mad Dog in a paper bag, nestled under the Swan Boat bridge in the Public Garden. Also, we had plastic knives. For protection. We met a lot of wackos that day, go figure. There was the guy who staunchly believed in the Kirlian camera. A brigade of fur-coated women mincing along with tiny dogs glared at us.

Oh, and then the next week there was an official celebratory brunch. We stayed up all night doing things that are bad for us, and popped out for the New York Times and a box of Munchkins as the sun rose. As the various roommates woke, we were doing the crossword puzzle and polishing off our 40s. Then during the brunch, the omelettes started talking to me. I had to excuse myself.

-xxoo

Posted 10:31 AM by Licketysplit

psst...we're back



The new year is off to a grand ol' start. I am working on a laxative addiction! (note to the uninitiated, don't believe a word of this-ed) Which reminds me of my favorite Disease-movie-of-the-week, "Kate's Secret". It was a riveting drama about bulimia starring Meredith Baxter Burney. She wolfs down a pound of cookies and a quart of milk in aisle six, and then yodels them behind the dumpster. She also consumes several pizzas and whoppers in a drive-by at several drive-thrus. Monday night CBS watching told me everything I need to know. About Everything.

Let it be straight that Lambchop=HEATHER. I could go by my given name, I suppose, but I have become so fond of the L's that are stitched to my underwear, and the darling sequined bag that Helen gave me for my birthday.

So, just to review, I, Lambchop, am the one who paints and huffs scotch guard and lives in Allston (formerly Berlin) and plans to revive the ascot. And some other stuff. Helen is the married one in the Lowell Loft who is obsessed with shoes and lost causes and intends to make her living hawking tampons shaped like mice. Or something. We BOTH like shiny things.

-xo

Posted 8:14 PM by Lambchop

Big Science

I broke the blog. Sorry! We are back now. In other news, I haven't tweezed my eyebrows in two weeks on accounta being sick. I glimpsed myself in the bathroom mirror, and it was like staring at a Yeti. I have managed to totally kill the little extra fuzzies on one brow, but the other is like some sort of bizarre control group.

other ephemera:
Now I am a Commuter, on the Commuter Rail. So you'll pardon me when I cut out early, saying, "I have to catch my train."
I am listening to Laurie Anderson again. Aw, just like high school.
My bachelorette party is finally scheduled for January 30th thanks to my friend Melissa. Yes, I did get married 4 or 5 months ago, but who had time then? See me for details if you want to go, there will be flaming drinks and flaming men.
I changed my nickname to my actual name, in the hope that it will make this blog less of a confusing mass of mystery as far as what is being posted by whom. That won't change the lying, however. Lying continues apace.

-xxoo

Posted 3:36 PM by Licketysplit

Rockin' Eve

Most of you are simply suffering from alcohol poisoning or atrocious levels of self-involvement today. I wish my personal ya-yas did not extend beyond misplaced false eyelashes. If you have been in contact with me in person in the past few days, and you begin to develop a cough, go to the damn doctor. I am not even kidding.

I had a dry cough since Sunday night, a tid bit irritating, but nothing special, which I attributed to dust levels as we finished packing. But on New Year's Eve, I found myself passed out in the ER at Lowell General, with an i.v. stabbed pretty much all the way up my arm. The blood gnomes poked and prodded, and I was x-rayed and nearly received a spinal tap because they were hoping I had something sexy, like menningitis. And holy shit, who wants a spinal tap? By the time they got around to that, I was lucid enough to complain.

Instead, I am the lucky winner of a case of viral pneumonia. I was fine in the morning, and completed the move and cleaning the apartment. Then I took a nap, and boom. I have whopping pills to take, and the pleasing knowledge that "they probably won't do much, since it's viral. Treat the symptoms, get plenty of rest." If you are curious, symptoms include fever, chest-wracking coughing, and pain in every single joint. It took a whole day to get around to forcing Mr. H to find my laptop. And that was just because I want to warn YOU. Back to rooting around until I find a position where I can breathe.

Posted 7:39 PM by Licketysplit