#HowTo: Crash an SNL After-Party

SOOOOOOOO ... crashing things is a bit of my MO. Seriously, "where there is a will there is ALWAYS a way" has been proven to be ABSOLUTELY true, as is evident from crashing the 53rd annual Grammy Awards. For reals, have you seen @petecashmore???

Um yeah. Being there just had to happen, I had to meet Pete. My "Daily Tweets to Pete" were getting a bit old at that point. However, thank you again Pete - glad that you read them, and surprisingly have yet to file a restraining order. AMAZING!

K, cool beans. So when I was 17 I moved to NYC. I got accepted into the Lee Strasberg Theater Institute in NYC, so the parentals were gracious and supportive enough to help out with an apartment in Manhattan literally 1 minute from the school door to door. Insane too, at 17 I literally hadn't even been drunk yet - and I had a Victorias Secret supermodel in my class!!! We hung out a couple of times (Carmen Kass - she's INCRREEEDDIBBLLLLYYY sweet, from Estonia, and once drank perfume to try and get drunk as a wee lass. True story), and I went to all these wild parties, but it was all pretty meh. I was INCREDIBLY focused on my classes, and worked my little fanny off. Dude, sense memory exercises are NO joke! Can't BS your way through those.

Well, I didn't know anyone in NY outside of school, except this one dude that I remember speaking at my acting class in 10th grade. His name was Michael Schur. Mike at the time had done some writing for Jon Stewart, but was currently writing over at 30 Rockefeller plaza for Saturday Night Live. Dude, SNL? I need an in! Plus too, when Mike spoke to our class he was straight up one of the nicest human beings on this planet. Really really really nice guy. Mind you, this was pre social media, so yeah I knew his name ... but if I sent him an email at that point it would have felt a bit stalkerish. People were weird when it came to these things in 2001. My oh my what 10 years has done!

I called my friend from school Dara and asked her if she wanted to come with me, that I was going to try to crash a taping of SNL. She's like you're bat shit, no way. I said, well if not the taping - why not the after party? It's a live show! We know what time it films, and what time it ends ... can't be that hard?

Popped on a subway, headed uptown, and walked into 30 Rockefeller plaza. Don't get too excited, anyone from the street can walk in - that part wasn't hard. We wandered around a bit, and found the back where all of the town cars were lined up, and saw this important looking chickadee standing by the door. I told her my cell had died and we were trying to meet some of our friends for the after party, did she know where it was? She smiled (again, I'm like the most non-threatening looking person in the world), said of course, it was over at the Heartland Brewery (MMMMM HEARTLAND BREWERY!!!! Dude, that place is the tits! Straight up d cup!). Then her phone rang juuuusssssttttt as I was about to ask which one.

Alrite, Heartland Brewery I thought - we got that, let's just ask the limo drivers which one! Can't hurt! Went back over to the town cars, and asked the very first dude - he goes, oh yah! Right around the corner ... I think it was like 47th street. Don't quote me. Brilliant!!! AWAY WE WENT!!!!

Started walking, it was very literally around the corner. Get there, and there's a rope with a red carpet, and lots of important looking people standing there with clipboards. Fuck, I thought. There's no way we can get in ... look at those important looking people with clipboards!!!

Yeah, not gonna happen.

We surveyed the situation for a moment, then I saw this woman walk up - and she had the most BEAAUUUTTIIIIIFFUUUULLLLLLLL pashmina on. Like seriously, it was this lavendar type pink color - omg, breathtaking. No joke, I was literally in awe of the color - truly stunning. Me being me, and having no filter - I just started genuinely saying to her that I loved her pashmina, where did she get it? She was COMPLETELY flattered and excited because she had just gotten it for the party ... she kept talking, and talking, and walking and walking, all of the sudden she's still telling me about this pashmina while saying her name to the important looking person with the clipboard and BAM just like that, I'm in the party. HAHAHAHA!! Omg it was so easy. Like so so easy. Again, I looked the part - I looked like I belong, I acted like I belonged - and I very genuinely was just having this conversation with this woman who just so happened to be moving like a NY minute and didn't stop to speak when someone spoke to her. HAHAA YAY LIFE!!!!

I get inside the party, but I wasn't about to bail on my friend. I sent her a text saying to give me 5 and I'll come and get her. I grabbed a drink at the bar (also equally amazing since I am 17 ... shhh don't tell anyone), came back out and asked the important looking person with the clipboard if she could please let my friend in from outside. The important looking person with the clipboard didn't even think to ask for my name, since I was already inside and I had a drink - so BAM just like that, I got my friend in.

Sure, hob nobbing with the stars is rad, right? But I came to meet Michael Schur! Where is he? Well, we were a tad early and even though the party was already popping off at that point, the show hadn't ended. No worries, I couldn't honestly believe what the fuck we had done to begin with, haha, so Dara and I went downstairs to the restroom to freshen up a bit.

She went into the actual restroom, while I just put on some makeup. Who walks out of one of the stalls? None other than Ms. Felicity herself Keri Russell. Kid you not. She washes her hand and puts on makeup - and she is very literally one of the most beautiful people that I have ever seen. Like seriously, I never thought she was that much to write home about prior, but IRL you take one look at this chick, and holy mother of a goat in a coat taking a toke while laughing at a joke, she is stunning. I remember she put on some fancy pants looking lip gloss and then left right as Dara was coming out of the restroom as well. Dara walks over to me as she's washing her hands, and I looked at her as I was putting on my own lip gloss and said "it'll never be enough." *tear tear* OMMMGGGG that woman is fucking BEAUTIFUL!

Left the restroom, walked up the stairs and some of the cast had already started to filter in. The show must have just ended!! YAYYY!!! I grab Dara's arm, and start looking at the people. Dude, I have a very freaky eye when it comes to spotting people. Like seriously, I am a FREAK of nature when it comes to not only placing people, but then being able to recall where I knew them from. I never forget a face - like ever, at all. Walked through a few tables and then BAMMMMMMMMM!!!! I see Mike! He's talking to Seth Meyers. Perfect, I thought! Seth was doing this funny thing with Jimmy Fallon called Top of the Mornin' To You! Pretty funny stuff.

Either way, a few seconds of us standing there, there was a break in the conversation and I reached out my hand to introduce myself to Mike - I said hey! My names Jen Friel, we both went to Hall High School, and you actually just spoke at my class two years back and I just wanted to say thank you, I found what you said to be incredibly informative. No joke, the dude basically said, work the hustle - and you can do anything you want in this town. He was floored - he goes, wait ... how are you in here? I said, oh, don't tell anyone - but your security isn't that great, and I'm a pretty determined person. He LAUUGGHHHSSSSSS with Seth, and gives me the biggest high five. He's like you're nuts! I said, I KNOW! But it totally WORKED!!!

Mike is seriously one of the nicest dudes on the planet. He totally didn't call me out for crashing in fact, we totally kicked it that night - and it was hands down my favorite NY moment. The cast was great, Jennifer Garner hosted that evening, at the time she was married to Scott Foley so that's why Ms. Keri Russell was there. It was such a GREAT NIGHTTTT!!! Come to find out too, Mike's and my mom worked together back in the day at Cigna in Hartford - crazy weird small world.

Mike is currently the EP on Parks and Recreation, and is now a happily married duderino to none other than Regis Philbin's daughter Jennifer, who used to write for the OC, and the couple even have a wee one of their own, a little girl, born last summer.

Aww congrats guys!!!

But seriously ... got a party or an event you want to crash? Use your nerdy noggin. I didn't plan a single moment of that evening, just took every single card that was dealt to me, and played it accordingly.

1. Look the part.

2. Have the confidence.

3. Act when you feel it is necessary.

I didn't know that saying I liked that woman's pashmina was going to get me in, I just very genuinely liked it and struck up a conversation talking about it anyway. By looking the part however, no one questioned me, and even if they had - I had the confidence in what I was doing that would have carried me through anything.

#kthxbye

oh and DUDE! Heard the good news on Parks and Rec on Twitter! AMAZING!! CONGRATS!!

WAHOOOOOOO!!!!

#TrueStory: I rode along in a Vegas cab for 2 hours during #CES

Gather round kiddies ...

I have a pretty awesome story to tell you all.

I was saving it for something. Not quite sure what, not quite sure how ... but this was one of the most epic adventures I have ever had. I sincerely think I waited so long to tell it though just to not get the dude in trouble. None of this was legal.

And here's the song ...

Last year at CES (2010 ... just in case you thought last year was still this year. See what I did there? That's called clarification. jiggaaaaaaaa!), I was a total crasher. I had no place to stay whatsoever. Like seriously - didn't have more than $10 to my name, got my pass for free, got a ride from a friend. Knew I needed to be there, just didn't really think long and hard enough on the rest to have all of it make sense. Hotel room? PPFFTT!!! It's Vegas! Everything is always open, I'm sure I can figure something out.

Surprise, surprise, I ended up figuring something out. The duderinos I drove out with offered me some floor space, and all seemed pretty groovy. That was until one night I had a meeting with some Microsoft mucks that ran super late - like crazy super late. We didn't have dinner until 9 or 10, then they had passes to this event that they wanted to introduce me to some people ... it was totally one of those. I knew if I went to this event with the group after I'd potentially lose out on being able to crash on my friends floor because they were all going to be asleep. I made a choice in that minute to just go for it, and figure the rest out whenever I could. What was the worst that was going to happen right?

The event was totally awesome, had a blast - met some REALLY cool peeps, then everyone called it a night. I was stone cold sober as you will only catch me nursing a single drink at a work event. See this way people think you're loosened up as they see a drink in your hand, but little do they know you've only taken 4 or 5 sips of it throughout the evening. I didn't even have money for a cab ride back to where my friends were - so when the night ended I just started walking. At this point, there weren't a lot of people on the street and the entire vibe just seemed so dodgey. I will admit this was definitely not my smartest moment in life, but I just sort of grinned and beared it by walking through as many casinos as possible to avoid the back alleys. Dude, Vegas scares the bejesus out of me. The BEJEEEESSUUSSSSSSS!!!

I decided to crash in this one casino for a moment, out of just sheer exhaustion. I had been walking at that point for almost an hour, mind you STILL WITH my big backpack and all of my stuff from CES. Again, no hotel room - no place to put your things. At dinner, and at the event I had the bellhop, after I was shit out of luck. I was this walking target of please, rob me! It's CES ... I prolly have a lot of nerd gear that's worth a lot of dough and heyyyyy we're in a recession.

Looking back, I cannot believe I was so dumb. I'm literally embarrassed typing this, my parents are going to kill me. Was walking out the front door of the casino down the driveway when the bellhop comes up and says ma'am lemme get you a cab! I said, no thanks, I'm just going to walk. The cab driver slams it in reverse, and rolls down his window ... he goes, this is Vegas, you can't walk. I'll take you anywhere, free of charge, just please get in. Free? MUSIC TO MAHHH EAAARRRSSSS!!!!

Got in the back of the cab, and he goes where can I take you? I said, well, I dunno. It was now 4am, and one of the dudes in the room had a flight at 6am, so I knew I could at least gain access to the room then. I said, anywhere you'd suggest going to kill two hours?

He fully turned his body around, I swear I will never forget the look on his face, and says - wanna go for a ride?

Clearly understanding the sexual innuendo he was trying to convey, I smiled knowing all well he was inviting me for a ride along in his cab, not his cock. He leaned over and opened the passanger door up front, I grabbed my bag and crawled in. He said he had to first go and drop something off at his girlfriends house, and then we'd start going along on rides. He rounded the corner, put the car in park - and got out. I IMMEDIATELY grabbed my Droid, snapped this pic and sent it in a picture text to my friend with the following message:

"If I die, this is the man that killed me. If I live, I will have the greatest story ever."

 He got back in the cab, and never noticed I took the picture. He told me that I had to come up with a story as to why I was there. I suggested I could be a reporter, or some sort of journalist documenting the Vegas night life ... he immediately shot that down. He goes, in this town, no one likes a reporter. I said, well - how about I can be running a diagnostic test on your meter to check for any irregularities? PERFECT, he said.

He told me that very few people ever get to experience what I was about to experience. Apparently, it is super illegal in Vegas to have a ride along, and in fact they have stations to check for ride alongs outside some of the more popular stops.

At first we just drove around, he showed me literally all of Vegas. I asked him if he ever feared the clientele that steps in, as I'm sure he had to go to some pretty sketchy areas. He turned and said, you know the people I fear the most? I said, who? He replied, you all. You, the people I pick up at the massage parlors at 4am and drop off at the convention center at 6am. Murderers, rapists, crack heads - you know where they stand. You people though, you're the worst - your insanity is repressed, THAT is dangerous. Tangent: He actually didn't use the word "repressed," I don't remember the exact word he used, but this man's English was so crikey, for the sake of storytelling and to not drive you all insane, I am going to use more than two syllable words.

He made perfect sense. I half smiled, half laughed, half well, wait - that's too many halfs. You get the picture. I asked him how he got into this business, and if he likes it. He said it was one of the most lucrative positions he could have with his kind of record. I said oh yeah? What were you in for? (see what I tried to do there ... speak his LINGGOOOO.) Assault. For how long, I asked. Too long, he replied. If memory serves me correct that dude was in there for a decade. He was no spring chicken that's for sure, and he had told me he had been in and out of jail his entire life. He said he had a bit of a temper, and was trying to work on controlling it but felt helpless. I replied with, I understand - while secretly I was thinking ... please don't kill me. Please don't kill me. Please don't kill me.

He goes, you ready for some riders? I said ABSOLUTELY!!!!!!

We pull up to the Spearment Rhino, and wait. Ever notice how hard it can be to get a cab in Vegas? Yeah, well if you're a single chick - they don't want you! You're more likely to get picked up if you're a couple, but if you're a single dude ... you are PRIME RIB!!! Here's why ... the cabbies work a hustle. Mind you too, this is 4am - and I can't speak for every cab driver, just what I know I saw with my own eyes. They pick up the single dudes from the Spearmint Rhino, or other strip club, but that one was the most popular, (good LORD there were a LOT of cabbies outside that thing!!!) and then take them to a massage parlor off the strip where the hustle begins. This Vegas taxi cab driver was a pimp. No other word for it! He would pick up the single dudes from the strip club who were clearly horny, take them way out of the way of their destination via this back road, stop the meter, and give them a show. The second the cab stopped, and the meter stopped guys would sober up a bit and say, this isn't my stop ... as a pair of boobs were placed outside their window. Literally, the girls were in fur like coats and were COMPLETELY naked when they approached the car. They did a little dance for about :30 seconds or so, while the cabbie tried to coerce the rider to go inside and have a little fun. After the :30 seconds were up, two more girls would be standing in the doorway, just incase the rider wasn't into one girl in particular, it was implied that there were plenty more inside.

All throughout the night, time after time, not a single rider went inside the massage parlor. At one point, 3 dudes thought about it for a second - but literally every.single.time. they would turn to him and say, how much for her? Mind you, I'm fully clothed in like corporate dinner businessie attire, you have chicks with their tits and ass LITERALLY in plain view, and you want the nerdy girl up front?

YEP!!! Every fucking time guys will go for the girl next door. Amazing.

So you thought that was the end of the hustle? Absofuckinglutely not! At that point, the cabbie would offer for the girls to be delivered to their hotel room instead. Watching this guy pimp these chicks out was UNFUCKINGBELIEVABLE. He related to them in such an endearing way ... I remember this one kid, who barely looked 21, he goes - I understand man. This is prolly your first time with a real woman like this. Why not have her come up to your room where you're more comfortable. She'll take good care of you. At that point, the rider agreed, he got dropped off at his destination - and then this card was exchanged. It is some MASSIVE loop hole in hooking in Vegas that if cash is never actually transferred, you're good. Checks and clearly credit cards aren't accepted either. HAHAHAHA!! Which slot would you slide it in? *ZING*

I didn't understand what I was seeing with this card transaction, but I'll tell you what I found out about it later on.

The rider left the car, and the cabbie immediately popped back on his cell phone and called the girls. He said he wanted to send two over as an upsell, as this dude got dropped off at the Wynn. Translation: He had dough. Besides, come on, he's a total sexual n00b. It's Vegas and two hot chicks just showed up at your door that are the surest of sure things. Are you really going to turn that down? Fucking genius!

I asked how much he made off of that sale, and he smiled and said "too much."

The night went on, we picked up a few more riders - then his cell phone rang in a different ring tone, and it sounded important. He picks up the phone, knowing it was one of the girls - and apparently they had gone to the room, gotten him off and now he was refusing to pay. Both girls ended up staying, but only one did the uh, deed. It was incredible too hearing how the cabbie talked about the entire scenario. Did he cum? Did he get off? Are you sure? Did you see him cum? Then get the money!!! He HAS to pay!!!

Remember, this man spent time in prison for assault and has a temper; not someone I'd advise you want to fuck with.

The girl put the cabbie on the phone, the anger subsided and he remained cool and calm. Hey dude, everything okay? Heard you had quite the wild party over there! He informed him that he had two girls in the room, and he had to pay for them both. They went back and forth for a few minutes, and the cabbie got so angry, but realized if he could just get the girls out of there with at least one of the payouts, he could get back to work and not have to deal with this mess. The guy said he would pay, the girls got the cash - and back to work everyone went.

The cabbie was amazing too, he knew he could get return customers, so he always gave them his info and said here, put it in your cell. Didn't even give them a business card or anything with his number. Captured it immediately in their phone. He goes call me "Lucky Vegas." Fucking classy.

The sun started to come up, and my time spent with the cabbie was nearing an end. He said he had a few ideas for an app that he was interested in talking to me about, and I said I would follow up with him when  I got back home. Of course, I never did - but I thanked him profusely for the experience. Talk about learning the hustle from a straight HUSTLER!!!!! That man was a genius. Fucking genius when it came to his overall rapport with the riders. Absolutely insane!!!

And oh yeah? The card thing. Later that day, after I got a couple hours of shut eye, I flagged down a taxi cab driver and asked him if he had ever heard of these cards that they give drivers. He said he wasn't sure what I was talking about. I told him that I just did a ride along and that the guy hustled these dudes and sent chicks up to rooms with this card? He goes OOOHHH!!! You lucky girl!!!! You got to see that?

He then told me that apparently those cards are an indicator to the hotel to get the girls access to the room. The riders gave the cabbie the room number, but apparently this card gets them access into the hotels. I don't know if it was a universal one or not - but apparently too it prevents the cabbie from being charged as a pimp. The girls KNOW to pay his ass, but because no legal tender hit his hands it was some weird loop hole. That part of it, I don't know - but if you're ever in Vegas, flag down a taxi cab driver and ask him or her. I'm sure they can explain it WAY better than I can.

Hands down one of the greatest experiences in my life. Best people watching EVVEERRR!! Oh, and one last thing. Watch the chicks at the Spearmint Rhino that have collars or chokers on. They might be hiding a little more than you're looking for in their bikini bottoms. HAHAHAHAHA!! Totally not kidding, saw with my own eyes! Crazy!

#yaylife

here's the actual post shortly after the taxi ride

The evolution of the #myspace in the mirror photo

I am FASCINATED by not only social media, but particularly our photographic documentation of life through it. (Clearly, I post and talk about said fascination morning, noon and night. One would think it gets old ... but it DOESN'T! BAHHHH!!! SUCKAASSSSSS!!!)

Alrite, remember the in the mirror myspace picture?

I can't get enough of it. I feel like it says so much about who we are as people.

I started using Myspace in 2005 as all of my collegiate friends back east started getting on Facebook; I didn't want to be left out. As anyone from back then remembered, or if you just saw the movie, in the early days of social media, you had to have a college ID address to create a Facebook account. Tangent: I have a theory as well, that myspace was so synonymous with being "ghetto" because in fact lesser educated people were among the early adopters. Think about that for a second ...

When social sites were first established, one of the first things we all did when we created our pages, was to select a default picture. K ... cool ... but remember this was back in 2005, pre every.single.person. in the world having a digital camera (or camera phone); the last time we took a picture we actually liked, we were at Grandma Betty's BBQ in Poughkeepsie. Might cramp our style if we're trying to get laid. Dude, chicks dig plaid pants. No joke ... schmexy.

People weren't taking pictures nearly as often as they do now. Period end of sentence. Anyone who owns a mac has photobooth, but let's again - face facts that not everyone can afford a mac. What were people to do? Take pictures of themselves in the mirror.

Super, easy, efficient way to capture a photo. Not everyone was capable of setting a timer, running back, and making sure they were still in the picture and not looking like a total dweeb.

Makes sense, and totally spurred a cultural phenomenon.

YouTube exploded with tutorials on how to successfully take a Myspace picture:

Wait, kid. are you kidding me? TURN OFF THE FLASH ON THE CAMERA, HOLD IT AS STEADY AS POSSIBLE, AND CLICK SNAP. Omg. Wow, I just made all of you dumber by subjecting you to that video. I am so sorry, that was horrible.

How many times did he call himself a genius too? Wow. Insane.

HAHA, but wait actually - kinda funny. I never thought about doing it that way. Pretty clever, but also way too complicated. People are stupid, mate. No really - people are phenomenally predictable and incredibly dumb. There's no way that many people would have put that much effort into taking a picture when they can just turn off the flash so that the light doesn't block out their image.

K ... back we go ... Myspace's Tom even jumped on board, and switched his iconic default to keep up with the cool kids in 2007 from this:

to this ...

Note the flash ... and Tom, dude - clean the mirror.

 Then of course, fast forward to 2009 - Facebook boomed in business due to the recession, the general ease (no HTML comments, music, and solid :15 second waiting time per profile), and because people frankly were looking for connections to the realness of it all after losing who they were as they once placed their value in their jobs, belongings - etc. But what happened to the in the mirror pictures? Why didn't they move on over to Facebook too? 

 When it comes to our social networking, we have a certain degree of social media responsibility. Myspace was a bit more public - still post yahoo chat, AIM ... but I felt like on Myspace I could be a bit more of a rockstar and have more of an alter ego. Myspace was where I wanted to go to be the person that I wanted to be versus accept who I am like I do on Facebook. Seriously, Facebook is way more incestuous. Pictures are tagged, mutual friends happen, high school friends find you - there's no escaping the Facebook web; and honestly, that's what made it so popular to begin with. It feels into its own viral-ness. PPUURRRRRR!!!

In the mirror pictures were instantly labeled douchey, and for a few years it looks like they were laid to rest for good. That was, of course, until Twitter came along, and photo services like twitpic, plixi, and uber-twitter started to happen.

Oh yes, they're back!

Albeit, this chica here is an adult entertainer ... for her personal brand, I'm sure this makes sense. But anyone who studies trends and influencers will tell you - these are the people we look to first. Porn and gamers. Well, porn, gamers, and high school kids - but I didn't want to post a picture of a high school kid for fear of parentals coming after me. STAYYY AWAYYYYYY!!!!! I'm not a creeper I promise!!

Think about it though ... twitter is way more public. I am very literally my own personal brand, I'm always shocked when my friends from like middle school find me on twitter. I was like, really? Are we besties on here now too? Feels kinda weird. Twitter to me is more about less of who I want to be, and actually even more of who I actually am, but not in a photographic sense. I feel a bit awkward posting pics of just myself on Twitter; I get more excited about posting random discoveries I've had throughout the day.

Click here to view my pics on WhoSay. I'd like to think they're sometimes funny ... but who am I kidding.

I never got into the whole myspace in the mirror pics. In fact, I even went through my entire myspace account prior to posting this just to confirm. HAHA! I was so not about to live in a glass house and throw stones. I think honestly, it had more to do with the fact that I've had a macbook pro since 2007, so no matter what I didn't really need to do the "in the picture thing."

Kinda got me thinking though this afternoon, are there ever any valid reasons to post an in the mirror picture? I took to twitter to find out.

After taking all of those suggestions into consideration, I have come up with the top 5 reasons one should EVER take a picture of themselves in a mirror. Ready? K ...

1. You are sexting back and forth with a sexy mate, and want to take it to the next level. Why not show some skin? Throw on some lingerie, or other equally naughty piece of loveliness, and snap a pic of yourself in the mirror displaying said loveliness.

(Just remember, don't put the face in the shot incase you ever become famous and they leak. Or if you do become famous - and have naked or nearly naked pictures, grab a friend who's an awesome photographer and have him or her take pics of you in an equally revealing way. You'll totally cockblock the ex by reducing the value of the picture. HAHAHAHA!!! SUCKA!)

2. You bought a new outfit, and are either so ferociously fashion forward - or are a walking, talking, what not to wear. Friends DEFINITELY need to be called in before bar hopping can commence. Snap the pic in the mirror, it's cool - just don't post it, cause that's not cool. 

3. You're about to have self portraits taken, and you need to know which smile is your best. Seriously! Senior pictures, class photos, work photos - this is the digital age, kiddies! Those things don't just end up in some book anymore, they are archived in google in perpetuity. Make sure that smile is good peoples!!!

4. You got a new haircut, and cannot see it from the back. Dude, I have totally done this before - even when it just came to testing out a new hairstyle. This one is a MUST, and a perfectly valid reason to take a pic of yourself in a mirror.

5. Artistic expression. There are definitely times in my life where I have found something really really really rad in a reflective surface and taken a picture of it. These can be pretty cool. Like dude, look at this one from a shoot I did in Florida ... pretty rad! 

Well, technically speaking - I was just checking my makeup at the time and he came up behind me to take the picture. Either way, a mirror was involved in the general composition, and in this case it was perfectly acceptable.

I think, er at least hope, you are all catching my drift in this. If you ever have to ask yourself "is this too douchey to post?" the answer is always - YES!!!!!!!!!!

Social sites will come, and go but remember - google images last forever.

#thatisall

Thanks guys for all the tweets for this post btw. You make my life. No really. Like I wanna make out with you now. Is that cool? K.

Click here to view the article in Fast Company

#EpicFind: Deep ... Deep ... Inside Craigslist

Craigslist, oh sweet sweet Craigstlist. You are totally the peanut butter to my spaghetti.

Looky look what I just found ... it says AND I QUOTE:

To the guy doing my wife. You know who you are. Yes I know. No I am not angry, I would just ask a few things of you. After all you are giving it to my wife.

1.Please stop leaving the seat up, I keep getting blamed and it is starting to get old.

2.You may be giving me a chance to go fishing more often but please stop drinking all my beer. It is fine if you have a couple while you visit(god knows
I drink plenty before I find her attractive), but please leave me a few as I have to be there longer than you.

3.If you do drink the last one buy more or leave money on the counter I will pick some up.

4.Please replace the toilet paper when you use it all. For some reason my 5 year old son belives if its not there he does not have to wipe. We keep it under the sink, unless you can recomend a better spot?

5.After doing my wife please use something disposable to wipe off with. The basket of clothes on the right is mine and the clothes are clean as my wife does not do my washing, Irun out of time rushing to work. Last week my sweatshirt was crusty(thanks).

6.Please do not tell my children that you are their uncle, they are young not
mentaly challenged.

7.Please stop turning the heat up, You pay nothing and MUD is putting it in my ass, my wife may like it but I think it hurts.

8.When she asks "do these pants make me look fat", say no. You may think giving a different answer will make her think twice about eating a gallon of ice cream a day but all you are doing is giving her a reason to go buy more pants that she will look just as fat in.

9.Stop eating the baked goods. The brownies you ate were from my mom for my birthday. My wife has not cooked anything that good for years and if she does she will not share.

10.Try shifting your weight when you sit on my chair. The recliner that I rarely have time for (soccer games and practice, basketball camp for the kids takes much of my time and I try to help with school work too)has a grove in it that forces me to roll to the left.

Lastly I would like thank you for taking her to lunch on Valentines Day. She was not as hungry as usual and only orded one meal.I may be able to use the money I saved to take the children to a movie. I hope you can help me with these items, it may become ackward if I have to confront her. If you can do this for me I will give you a heads up on when I will be gone and for how long so that you don't feel rushed.

P.S. I am going to take the kids to the Great Wolf Lodge on the 3rd of April for four days, I have a bottle of vodka above the fridge if you find yourself low on beer.

Thanks This was not writen by anyone named Jack S.

#amazing

 

#TrueStory: I went out on a date with a guy that read my foot

Haha! Weird weird weird series of scenarios that I was going to wait to post on in the morning - but who am I kidding! Running a website is a 24/7 job, you think you can sleep? HA! succkkkkkkkaaaaaaaa

Alrite. Rewind back to Saturday night. Was getting my freaky freak on at the place where one can get their freaky freak on without having anyone care. Seriously, I spent the entire evening topless covered partially by a spirithood. I say this not to entice or titillate, just incredibly matter of fact that I made a conscious decision to further not give a fuck, and just have fun. Unapologetic awesomeness, ftw! Left my friends for a hot minute to use the restroom, was walking back to the dance floor - and this dude grabs me. It was this weird harmless type thing. I don't remember what he said to me, but it was along the lines of "I like your energy, I want to read your foot." Me, being me, and well, open for EVERY SINGLE EXPERIENCE I could possibly have in life, was totally fucking game and said, alrite!

We walked over behind the grotto, and he took my boot off and proceeded to tell me all about my present reality. It's reflexology and has some very very very fascinating qualities. I don't believe in the psychic shit, or things being pre-ordained based upon the stars; I am living proof that you MAKE YOUR OWN DESTINY! Go, do cool shit - just write about it, and let other people in on your story as much as possible. For reals, it's that simple. Oh noes, do I smell a tangent? Shut up Jen. So, we walked behind the grotto, and he proceeds to take off my boot and read my foot.

I am not easily surprised with anything in life. I sort of just take it all as it comes, and live life with no expectations. It was 1 am, I was at the playboy mansion - whatever was going to happen was going to happen. This dude was not about to get in my pants, especially since I was wearing a skirt - wasn't even IN pants, was just there to have fun, and let loose for a night. I kid you not, he freaked me out with the shit he picked up on. Think about it like this though, again, not in a psychic sense, but our feet carry ALL of our weight. You think anxieties, tension, or happiness wouldn't show in our feet? Life is cause and effect. When it comes to our body language, it is completely mirrored by the thoughts in our noggin. Women primp their hair when they like a boy, I personally figit with my hands like a MOOOFFOOOOOO when I'm nervous. We all do it, we can't help it! 99% of the time we are COMPLETELY unaware that we are even doing it. All this being said, he picked up on the most obscure, weird, ungoogle-able shit you could imagine. Needless to say, I gave him my number when he said he wanted to take me out on a date.

Flash forward to Tuesday (he waited the prerequisite 3 days - WHICH btw are super super super lame. no chick will care. Just call on Monday, it's cool.) he leaves me a message asking me out to dinner. I was allllllll up on it! This guy is a freaky deaky leaky, and mama likes that ... a lot.

I told him I was free on Thursday night, and alas! Here we are. Normally for me, I won't go out on a date with a dude unless I know a last name (so I can appropriately Facebook and google stalk them), or have an OKC profile to go off of. It's my comfort zone. I like knowing what I know about the web so I can find anything I want to know about someone. This whole romanticized notion of, oh yeah! let's just get to know someone is super fucking lame to me. Anything I want to know about you I can find out online - we all leave digital footprints. If for whatever god awful reason I cannot find that, that means you are hiding something. Very very very black and white, and horrible un-Disney. Mama likes!

We went to dinner, and he took me to this little Ethiopian restaurant in little Ethiopia which is just south of Olympic on Fairfax. And dude! He was FUCKING AWESOME! This guy was so rad! He just kept saying, you are so happy - he could just feel the love from my soul. It was the raddest compliment anyone has ever paid me. He doesn't read feet for a living, in fact, I can't even say what he does for a living since it's super fancy pants; BUUUTTT I can say he does incredibly well for himself and just bought a friggen house in an uber posh section of LA. Needless to say, palm reading in Venice isn't his thing. But OMG! at the end of the night, he totally read my feet again - and it BLLLEEWWWW MY MIND!!! He picked up on things I very very very privately browsed, and literally have never ever ever uttered online, let alone to even a single soul on this planet. And no, not porn - I have no problem telling people all the porn I look at. Sex is pretty black and white with me, this was like from the dark cave that I didn't even want to address that I had. Clearly of course we all do, but in my little land of LA-LA, this thingggggggg/person/scenario/whatever was in my past, and not at all a part of my present. He fucking picked up on it, and was like whhhaattt are you thinking girl? Why is this scenario still here? Dude, NO ONE KNOWS! He addressed my problems with intimacy, my UNBELIEVABLE passion for music (but from the creative perspective, not in the music industry), my ease at being able to resolve scenarios, and the fact that all of my lines were so interconnected. He freaked out at that actually. I was like yeah! I'm a lifecaster. My work is my art, is my life, is my heart, is my everything, and I'm stunned that someone can make a living having this much fun. He just kept saying over and over how passionate I am about life and philosophical, and that there are lines underneath the lines in my feet. Totally fucking blew my mind. And I kid you not, I've had my palm read two other times in my life - and NOOOO ONNNEEEE has come close to what this guy did for me.

I can very honestly say that in my last year and some change of just constantly meeting people, he is HANDS DOWN the most interesting person I have ever met.

I don't know what exactly he is- or what exactly it is that makes him tick, he's a fucking nut job that's for sure .. and I dig it. Where will it go from here? Who knows. We didn't kiss, just hugged - I don't really pick up that vibe from him. But I dunno. He invited me to dinner next week, so we shall see.

Got dropped off by that duderino, then went to meet up with some peeps over at Big Wangs and then Dillons. OMMMMGGGGGGG, I need to get laid again soon. I know, I know - you all got pretty peeved at all the posts the last time I was in need of some lovin - but seriously, I'm like a dude. I can't help it. I need to get laid to think. Haven't had sex since the Santa Barbara boy ... and that's itching on almost a month. That is no bueno. I only have a little bit longer before I start getting super cranky and super irritated. HAHA! Me and the girls tonight were totally creepin. It was hilarious. We kept doing laps looking for boys, and alas! nothing but epic failure. There were absolutely, no hot boys at the bar. The worst part is, I am so conditioned now to focus on compatibility that I had no idea what to even look for. Pretty boys don't do it for me; I dig quirky, I dig stories. I can't look at a boy and find that, hence the reason why I don't look for dudes at a bar - I'm an efficiency freak. Either way, it wasn't like I was going to pick up a dude at a bar and get some (not that theres anything wrong with that, but for me personally, I need more). But you do need a few lined up in some sort of cue. Like after x amount of hangouts, x amount of something ... it will eventually lead to you getting some. Which is rad, since I have a little bit of time left before I get cranky. UGH! End of night, no new boys in cue. I am so unbelievably sick of dating, you all have no idea. I always end up dating my guy friends. I can't STANNNDDD getting to know someone, I like starting things mid sentence after all of the polite conversation has been killed.

So there you go, that was my night. I am now retiring to this super sexy couch. For reals, you all make my life - so thanks for being in it. Like no seriously ... the foot dude even told me, I am a happy happy bitch, and it's all because of what you all have given me. For that, I thank you.

#peace