4:17 seconds of unadulterated triangle humor

Bring it, Balfa. BRING IT.

Lately I'd been wondering where the funny went in my life and apparently it's on NPR.

NPR had a recent podcast about a soccer mom looking lady who put out an entire album of solo triangle. A couple times she throws out some off-key caterwauling, but this is truly 55 minutes of unadulterated triangle.

THIS SHIT CANNOT BE PARODIED.

My friendz and I sat around yesterday not entirely unconvinced this is not a joke. Someone even asked if this was posted on April Fool's Day. You have to listen for yourself to discover your favorite triangle joke, but my personal high point comes at 2:18 when the sentence "We got lightning in a bottle on that one." is uttered in all seriousness.

I know it's called "All Things Considered", but it really makes you wonder if all things do, in fact, need to be considered.

LISTEN! LISTEN! LISTEN!

And you're welcome.

"Oh Moonshine, I am sorry the flavor of your life is currently pralines and dick."

Nobody puts it like BWP and she just summed up my life with a powerful ice cream flavor metaphor via our nightly text exchange.

Unfortunately I know I'm not the only one banging his or her head on walls and chowing down on the praline-and-dick gelato of life. Pretty much everyone I know is having a tough time, even people who normally coast. Long-term relationships are suddenly ending, bills aren't getting paid, jobs are getting scarcer and livers are getting destroyed.

I am at my friend's house right now having a sad pants party about it all, and the one thing that cheered me up today was learning that this week she drove out of a gas station with the gas hose still in her car. Like she ripped it off and drove down the street with the hose dangling behind the car like a wedding streamer.

Me, I just got a street cleaning ticket and locked myself out of my apartment on the same day.

Okay, I am going to bang my head on that wall now. Bye bye.

Because my new Twitter addiction makes me ADD and incapable of writing a real post.

Here is the latest from the annals of Clover texting. And no. Not drunk.

Clover: In my dream last night I was pregnant with your baby and didn't tell you and felt terrible about it, but then I had the baby and it turned out to be a bunch of really cute kittens, so I told you that I'd been pregnant and gave you one of the kitties and you were stoked "because it looked like you". But it jumped out of your arms, ran into a wall and died.
Clover: Dreams are fucked, man.
Jacques: Woah
Jacques: That's bizarre. Did you eat McDonald's before bed?
Clover: Normally I hit up a Jack in the Box before bed, but this was sushi. Maybe there was some mercury poisoning going on. You were pretty inconsolable over the kitten baby.
Jacques: Can you blame me?
Clover: No way. It did look like you. I tried to give you one of the other kittens, an orange one, but it didn't feel like your son. Maybe the mailman had also knocked me up. That's where all redheads come from.
Jacques: The mailman!

The Hipster Bunny

Happy Easter, peeps.

Get it? PEEPS? Easter humor!

I am in the process of constructing a larger post about google referrers (I know, baited breath), and part of my desire to speak out on this topic stems from a disturbing amount of people on the intertrons searching for knowledge on hipsters and hipster hair and looking to ME for that advice.

So for all you searchers looking for hipster tips, here's my latest: turn your necklace into a faggy hipster Mischa Barton-like headband. And wear it out.

When did I become this person?

Dear Danny McBride

We met in The Foot Fist Way, but I had a boyfriend back then. I saw you again in Tropic Thunder, but I thought we'd just be friends, because back in Tropic Thunder I was still crushing on Steve Coogan.

But then you stole every scene in Pineapple Express, and singlehandedly kept me from being disappointed in a movie I was extremely excited to see, and now that you've just blown my mind with the best premium cable comedy to ever be on premium cable, I really want to end the heretofore platonic nature of our relationship.

I know, Danny. You are just going to say that Clover pretty much universally likes chubby comedy dudes. And yes, I've loved a fat funny dude before, almost sociopathically I love fat funny dudes, but you are special. You make humilition so hilarious and comedy so tragic. There have been similar dudes before you, but I have never felt so sad and pants-pissy all at once. It's next level type shit. You are a master of the very essence of comedy, and I am in awe of you.

If by any chance you walk around LA in such devastatingly appealing clothing as hoodies and converse, I will probably just marry you or rape you on the spot. Or both. I feel like we possibly live near each other, so FYI, I drink a lot at the Griffin. And Sgt. Recruiter. And El Prado. And the El Torito in Santa Monica. Okay, I just drink a lot. Let's meet up.

xoxo,
Clover

[photo credit:Jeff Kravitz/filmmagic.com]

Does anyone perchance have an iPhone they want to give me?

Because my TI-85 of a Blackberry doesn't work for shit.

Really. This is almost exactly what it looks like. Except for the fact that it doesn't graph parabolas, and that sucks too, because I totally sometimes want to lay down a derivative in between episodes of Snapped and painting my nails.



For two hours last night I didn't even receive information. It would just delete every little envelope that came in. An envelope would appear in the corner, and then, Poof. Vanish. I tried leaving the folder open so I could at least see a name attached to it, but it had a straight-to-nothingness policy. I got the corner envelope and that was it before those little mystery texts were mainlined to the glue factory.

But anyway, back to Phone Suckage 09, it's coolio and all if we're dealing with emails, because I have OTHER more RELIABLE sources to get my emails, like checking my actual email on a computer. But texts. Those are just gone forever. And you all know how I feel about texts. Is it too dramatic to say they make my life worth living? Do I care?

So unless I ask everyone in my address book if they texted me during those hours (which I won't because that would be more embarrassing than having a shitty Blackberry), there are definitely several people thinking I'm a total asshole for not responding to them. And, yeah I don't respond to every text in the world, so there are some people that think I'm an asshole anyway. But I prefer my assholeishness to be by CHOICE. Not at the whims of my beat down Blackberry. (I knew it was bad two years ago when a cashier at Trader Joes asked me if I had the first Blackberry ever made. Well played, Trader Joes cashier. I believe they call that "negging".

Srsly. I can't handle the heartache of a 'Nam-era Blackberry anymore and would be forever grateful and I promise to never drunk text you.

Or drunk text you all the time, if you're into that kind of thing.

Kthx.
Clover

Ezra Caraeff: Date Me

I am no stranger to loving funny dudes in hoodies, BECAUSE THAT IS ALL I TRULY LOVE IN THIS WORLD. But this is the first time I am using a platform such as my blog to try and fanagle a date with one. Like I said, dignity and I broke up a while ago and I'm totally available now.

I don't know if you all read Kiala's blog but it's very super and you definitely should read it if you don't. Anyway, she posted this today and it made my little Clover heart skip a beat. This Ezra individual is hilarious and has great taste in art, and we have at least one email friend in common so I feel like this somehow makes the dream of dating possible, even though he lives in Portland and I am slave to LA 4 LIFE. Whatevs. Small potatoes.

Regular posting to resume shortly. In the meantime, watch and laugh and crush on this person too:


Ezra Caraeff - Back Fence PDX from brewcaster on Vimeo.