Monday, July 25, 2005

Travel Diary

The last leg of the "RBIE in the U.K.!" tour is fast approaching...and as much as i've enjoyed it, I can't deny the fact that my hands are cramped from all the autographs I've had to sign, my bodyguards are exhausted from having to continuously shield me from unruly fans, and even my mind is starting to stray...

In my freetime (ambitious journalist that I am) I've been participating in an intense International Human Rights Seminar...finally lawyers that don't make me want to cut myself (as much) for being associated with them. I've learned a lot and hope to put all my new knowledge to good use when I get back. For example, I can now confidently threaten my illegal Aunt with deportation because God knows she doesn't qualify for refugee status.

One thing is for certain: I will be a poor lawyer. Unless (!) one of our faithful readers can find me a sexy, rich widower* who has a thing for eye-twitching and a (newly acquired) fake British/Madonna accent, in which case I will be spared a life of poverty, as will my four illegitimate children (I'm stopping at four, because Jesus, I'm not a whore!).

My itinerary for the next week is jam packed so I apologize again to all the kids whose emails I've yet to respond to, as well as to the single fellows impatiently awaiting my autographed glamour shots (stamps in the U.K. aren't cheap, you know).

For the rest of you planning my welcome back party on the 31st, you might want to find a large freezer to store the life-size ice sculptures because plans have changed and RBIE Fan-Club Sweden has requested my appearance.

I know. You feel betrayed right? Well, as long as I have you here, I might as well tell you: Santa Claus IS real...but he's also a pedophile who occasionally enjoys wearing women's underwear...you can see the dilemma most parents face. I say most parents, because mine warned me about his pedophilic tendencies when I was a little child...kept me from leaving my bed at night to check on the milk and cookies--but that's another story for another time (namely, Christmas-time, when my parents make me babysit all the bratty kids at their annual holiday party.)


For now, all i can say is Jag är densexigaste kvinnan som du kommer att någonsin traffa.
(That's Swedish for bye.)

*sometimes, i wonder.

Thursday, July 21, 2005

How to spot a terrorist

Fortunately for all of us Americans living in fear of another terrorist attack, the NYPD has released a set of tips on how to spot potential bombers on subways:

1. Someone with clenched fists.

2. Someone who is nervous, jittery, or sweating profusely.

3. Someone who avoids eye contact, mumbles, or chants.

4. Someone with an unusual object protruding from his or her clothing, especially electronic devices, switches or wires.

5. Someone who repeatedly glances to their left or right, or runs in a suspicious manner.

This lists describes the entire NYC population, if not the entire world!!! I am personally guilty of no. 2 (sweating-- it has been like 105 degrees here) and no. 3 (who doesn't avoid eye contact in the train?!). Not that NYC's finest don't have good intentions-- its just that this list is just as helpful as telling you to beware of people wearing blue jeans. What I should've reported to authorities instead was a man I saw walking down the street with a hospital gown and khaki pants. He looked like an escaped mental patient, and no lie, he was jittery and talking to himself. Like a true New Yorker, I looked away and walked faster to get away from him.

Friday, July 15, 2005

There's Nothing Quite As Lovely as Halloween in July

Guess who just stood in line for almost two hours...while being entertained by Hagrid, a flame throwing (and swallowing...extremely "talented" and most likely a stripper in her spare time) witch, and several owl handlers..... to get the new Harry Potter book from Blackwell's bookstore?

That's Right. My favorite part was the countdown...it caught me offguard. Panicking, I vainly scanned the room, looking for someone i could kiss when the clock struck 12---much like last New Year's Eve, my prospects were grim...do i go for the 15 year old boy dressed like Harry, or the 60 year old man dressed up as a mature and surprising Hermoine?

This has been my first experience standing in line for a book...and i'm pretty sure it's my last. There are some intensely creepy Harry Potter fundamentalists out there...its an entire world that's just asking to be bombed by G.W.


I haven't started reading yet, but here are my predictions on what happens in the new book:

Hermoine, the slightly bookish OCD heroine, matures into a promiscuous teenager who gets knocked up as a way of proving to the other kids that she's not a prude. The mystery that follows is the identity of her baby daddy: whiny Harry or goofy Ron. My money is on Ron...but only time will tell..

Questions remain to be resolved: Will Ron and Harry remain friends? Who else did Hermoine get it on with in the Quidditch field and why didn't she use protection? Will she keep the baby?

I love a good mystery.

Saturday, July 09, 2005

Favorite Pastimes: Blowing Air Into A Plastic Sheep

It's no secret that for the past week, i've been on location in the UK "researching" for RBIE. There's still a lot of work to be done (let's not kid ourselves about that) but there are also a few things i've already discovered that may interest some of our readers who need travel advice:

1. UK pubs, in Oxfordshire at least, close at 11pm. After that, it's off to the clubs where pasty white men with upturned noses attempt to dance to '50 cent' without dislocating their hips. A word to the wise: the techno floor is full of short men on ecstasy...if you're not into that, stay away from the techno floor. Also, for you casanova men out there, summoning a girl over by pointing at her and then pointing at the ground next to you while you show off your lackluster smile (with several missing teeth) may not work on every girl. Don't give up. One day,..perhaps distant day....someone will learn to appreciate you as your mother does.

2. If you ever make a trip to the lavatory, make sure to take enough money just in case you find the need to use the "Naughty Toys for Girls and Boys" dispenser. It's just like a tampon or pain medicine dispenser, but instead of Tylenol, you might end up with an inflatable sheep complete with batting eyelashes, red lips, and fishnet stockings. (sidenote: pooling together 7 pounds to buy said inflatable sheep may seem a good idea at the time,..and it is...because hey, when else are you going to be able to say that you bought an inflatable sheep??)

3. "Chips and Cheese" from a street vendor is really the closest you can get to actually experiencing heaven in all its glory. Prayer is not the answer. Your mother lied to you. I know, shocking.

4. If you travel in a large group, you may soon learn that each day is another person's birthday and that you will be forced into acoholism before your time. Embrace it, because it's awfully rude not to celebrate a birthday.

5. Even though you want to like everyone, there will inevitably be that one person who you keep picturing in a noose each time they open their mouth. It's not your fault...some people deserve to be lynched and it's really quite tragic that our society as a whole is unwilling to accept that fact.

6. Don't attempt to impart advice after four glasses of wine and two beers...you probably wont even finish your thought before you suddenly collapse on your keyboard and ">?km,vcf

Thursday, July 07, 2005

Bloody Hell. Indeed.

I haven't been in the UK a week, and some assholes decide to make a fucked up statement and blow up the London Underground and a bus full of people...FULL of people!
There go my weekend plans and...yup, that sound you hear is my mother's sanity leaving her as blind panic sets in.