Sinister: "Oh that is so LAME! You will PAY for your use of inappropriate dialogue!"

[Miss Marianna Longmire]

Do you know what's great? Those egg.com adverts where their advice on saving
car insurance is to attach a cardboard box onto someone else's car,
suggesting you drive around in that instead - thus sparing you of insurance
payouts. And your dignity. I heart those adverts.

Do you know what isn't great? Gum in Jet Set Radio is not great. She's hip
looking, and does this great little dance when you select her, but really,
her tagging skills are just ridiculous. And yet, I can't give her up. It's a
masochistic love/hate thing.

Do you know why New York rocks my world? New York /totally/ rocks my world
because:

* On cable, they have this insane program called "Undressed". It's all about
shagging, and gay footballers and gay chess players and the size of one's
package and feeder fetishes. It is, officially, one of the greatest
television shows ever.

* Those wonderful sinister kids Laurel, Brian and Matt will welcome you into
their homes where you will watch the premiere of the new Joss Whedon series,
after which they will ply you with sordid gossip and discuss the wonders
(disasters?) of nerve dating.

* There's this great bar in Brooklyn called Union Pool. It's full of
achingly stylish yet completely lovely hep cats dancing to rock and roll. A
boy in your posse will win the style stakes by wearing a Paul Frank pyjama
top as a shirt and you will steal snapshots of girls snogging in the photo
booth, which you will later make photocopies of and stick on lampposts in
central London.

* Fashion rules NYC.  Wake up! The Strokes look is /so/ over. It's all about
1920's lingerie, yo. Also, the trucker's cap is /totally/ in. Muh brethren's
attire has finally become vogue.

* You and your homeboy stumble across a small park in the centre of
Chinatown where old men play Chinese Chess with great ferocity and name
calling. Later, we sit at a nearby table and play Go. Slowly, a few of the
aforementioned gaming masters come over and watch, shaking their heads and
tutting as they figure out my lack of strategy. I refuse to place a stone
whilst they're there and my ass gets go-kicked again. But there are turtles
in buckets and Powerpuff Girls paraphernalia to look at, so my
disappointment is short-lived.

* Entering a street festival in Little Italy, your posse will discover a
freak show which features the visual delights of: "The World's Smallest
Horse!", "The World's Smallest Lady!" and the "Snake Woman!" - The head of a
beautiful lady, the body of a large plastic python. It totally rules.

* You jump on a random subway train only to discover your carriage has been
overrun by a posse of 13-year-old skater homeboys. They're completely
hopeless but their enthusiasm for skating up and down the aisle and grinding
on the seats is commendable. One of them will declare this the "Soul Train."
G and I applaud.

* You get to see the first episode of the new series of Buffy.

* YOU GET TO BE IN THE AUDIENCE OF THE RICKI LAKE SHOW! Whilst waiting to be
led into the studio, one of the show's producers will ask you, "If it's a
serious topic, please, whatever you do, don't shout out, 'You big fat bitch!
'" Everyone sighs. Once inside, it was clear that behind the scenes was far
more entertaining than the show itself, even /with/ the "Tupac is alive"
obsessive - "My boyfriend looks a bit like Tupac, but I wish he'd try
harder. I dunno, like maybe wear bandanas like Tupac does." During the
breaks, Ricki's sidekick Darlene was our entertainment, a lady who proved to
be genuinely, insanely funny. And she fell down some stairs in a comedic
manner - accidentally! This woman is a genius. Later, the audience erupted
into a pop-idol like singing competition to win t-shirts and a boy two rows
in front of you will bump and grind his booty throughout the /entire/ show.

And then, it was back to London. Which was GRATE! And do you know why?
Because it was filled with pub gatherings, and quiz nights, and insider
gossip about Angelina Jolie, and realising your celebrity crush now looks
like a 60-year-old version of Jeffrey Archer - ugh, and there was picnicking
and Tigermilking. Tigermilking was great. I, unfortunately, was a little too
inebriated to pay much attention to other people's debaucherous actions, but
I /do/ remember that everyone looked gorgeous and the DJs were fantastic.
Daphne and Celeste! Dolly Parton! Nelly! Le Tigre! What a fab selection. One
might call it eclectic.  I'd call it the tits.

Isn't this post great?

No?

Apologies.

Miss Marianna Longmire

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