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Sunday, April 6th, 2008
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2:46 am - My Roommate Is Hilarious and Awful
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Upon hearing that Charlton Heston passed away, Scott offered: "Well, I suppose now is the time to pry the gun out of his hand."
current mood:  amused
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| Thursday, January 3rd, 2008
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10:45 pm - All We Need in the War on Terror Is a Firm Roundhouse Kick
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As I'm watching the speechification on CNN about the Iowa caucuses, I am suddenly awestruck by the sight of Chuck Norris hanging over Mike Huckabee's right shoulder. I think I've just figured out why Huckabee is going to be unstoppable in the coming primaries, and the subsequent general election. How can the rest of the Republican candidates withstand the dominance of Walker, Texas Ranger? Edwards' populism, Clinton's brilliance, and Obama's sheen will crumble in the wake of the star of Delta Force, to be sure, but what does this mean for the Huckabee administration?
One would think that Norris will be the obvious choice for Secretary of Defense. We certainly wouldn't need to pursue an anti-ballistic missile program, since he would just stare down the fiercest rogue silo. He could challenge the other cabinet members to a push-up contest if they tried to challenge his will. The roundhouse kick would become the greatest military advance since the machine gun in the fields of France, circa 1916. WMD would become WCN.
I do worry that the bible-thump of the Huckabee administration could become a scarier tactic. Although a roundhouse kick might wreck me, it probably wouldn't send me to h-e-double-hockey-sticks. Of course, if Louis Gossett, Jr. became the Attorney General, I would be completely without defense against invasions on my rights and my person.
current mood:  calm
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| Saturday, December 22nd, 2007
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11:47 am - At Least the Special Effects Were Edgy?
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As I was watching Transformers last night, I was rather put off by something. No, it wasn't the blatant jingoism, the flashy transformations, or the fact that Megatron was clearly the best actor in the film. I know I am exposing myself as a music snob, but I could not move beyond the fact that the main character, who is supposed to be some kind of cool teenager, was wearing a Strokes t-shirt.
Um...?
Couldn't they have chosen a hipster band that at least had a decent sophomore album... which followed their only good album... that happened to come out, like, six years ago? Is it so much for me to expect them to go with an "edgy" band that is... actually cool? I understand the need to straddle the line between counter-culture and Top 40 as much as the next discerning viewer. Bearing that in mind, how about Interpol, the Arcade Fire, the New Pornographers, even Franz Ferdinand? I could have stomached a display from Death Cab for Cutie or the Faint. Perhaps a throw-back to the godfathers of indie rock, like the Pixies, Cibo Matto or Cat Power? I suppose the mellow stylings of Belle & Sebastian may be a bit too deep for mass consumption, but would it have killed them to dress him in a Built to Spill t-shirt?
And sure, they could have really sent me off the deep end by choosing a shirt with the Bravery or the Killers, but let's not dwell on such unpleasantness. It's Christmas.
current mood:  nerdy
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| Friday, November 16th, 2007
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8:16 am - That Last Subject Line Was a Quote, By the Way. Not From Me.
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This is going to be the TV rant that I have resisted for some time. So, here is a basic list of television shows that I have come to love/hate-to-love/disdain.
In the love department, we will find How I Met Your Mother, The Office, Ugly Betty, and 30 Rock. There were pivotal junctures for each show, mostly revolving around dialogue.
My love for HIMYM was solidified not with Alyson Hannigan, as shocking as that may sound (actually, I think they are not using her well, but...anyway), yet with the "Robin Sparkles" episode that concluded with the Let's Go to the Mall video. If you are not familiar with this, PLEASE click on the link. You can thank me later. There was a recent episode that included "World of Warcraft" as two people meeting "online." It was BRILLIANT.
The Office was ascertained when Dwight said he lost a spelling bee on the word "failure." Ugly Betty was determined when I realized that not only did the writing and acting kick ass, but Vanessa Williams is the most bitchin' former Miss America ever. 30 Rock came when Tracy Morgan said the line "Foxy boxing? That combines my two favorite things! Boxing, and referees!"
The hate-to-love segment is a bit limited: Heroes. You heard me. I rented the DVDs from the good people at Netflix, and I stuck with it because... well... I heard that Kristen Bell was going to be in the second season. Seriously though, I watch like it's hot, and the show is not that hot. It's lukewarm. If anything, it is contributing to a shame spiral.
The disdain category is so special. You'll find only one show: Lost. WOW has that show jumped the shark in new and inventive ways. Seriously, I watched the first season on DVD, liked it, and almost immediately lost interest in the second season. For real, how long did they think this plotline would last? But I am subjected to it because my roommates keep hanging on. I mean. Really?
Also, the result of watching NBC Thursdays remains the same. It never changes, since I refuse to acknowledge it. Imagine me, with a confused look, saying "Wait, ER is still on?"
current mood:  pessimistic
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| Monday, October 1st, 2007
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11:55 pm - Oh Yeah, That's Right. Dorkiest. Post. Ever.
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Gentle readers, please indulge a moment of proud reflection. To be fair, I did very little of the actual work. No, that distinction belongs to David Ortiz, C.C. Sabathia, Justin Morneau, Brian McCann, Alex Rios, Magglio Ordonez, Miguel Cabrera, Dustin Pedroia, John Smoltz, Jhonny Peralta, Miguel Tejada, Rich Hill, Ben Sheets, Fransisco Cordero, Shaun Marcum, Jeff Francoeur, Gil Meche, Heath Bell, Tim Wakefield, and Mark Ellis, among others.
Yes, people, I won Fantasy Baseball. I finished 172 points ahead of the closest competition. It's pretty freaking sweet. I left a bunch of confused boys in my wake, and I can already tell that they are having a hard time handling it. Bwah!
Also, to ponder on real baseball news, WTF with the Mets? Like... wow. It's the implosion to end all implosions. Not that I'm a huge Mets fan, but I have an aforementioned spot for them in my heart. It's so crazy. Willie looked so mad.
On the other hand, how fly is it that the Yankees are hitting the Indians in the first round of playoffs? Pretty effing fly, is the answer. Hopefully they won't collapse like the Mets did. Odd as it may sound, I'm actually hoping that the Red Sox eliminate the Angels, since those bastards from Anaheim are like kryptonite to the boys from the Bronx.
In other news, I made paella and sangria on Saturday, and watched Major League, Short Circuit 2, and Army of Darkness with friends. We then played Guitar Hero II on my shiny new Xbox 360. Oh, did I neglect to mention this? Yes, I bought an Xbox 360, and my life is forever altered for the better. Gears of War is such a great game, and if you thought "Message in a Bottle" was rad... wait until you unlock "Sweet Child O' Mine."
What's next for me? Fantasy Hockey! Anyone want to play? Contact me for details.
And, yes, this is the dorkiest post ever.
current mood:  tired
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| Friday, February 9th, 2007
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1:10 am - Winter Is A-Okay
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Seem to have developed a strange cult following in Lower Manhattan. We threw a LM Town Hall this week, and I got all kinds of validation from lots of community folk. Got about 150 people to turn out in the freezing cold to vent about issues, and it was a lovefest for me and the man. Specifically, one person told me he was "so excited to meet you in person after all our phone conversations, but will refrain from showing up with a rose between his teeth."
Um, thanks?
When I reported the effusive nature of the crowd to my roommates, they spouted, "Mary Cooley is so great, she saved a bag of drowning puppies from the river!"
Have a rad new co-worker, which had made the overwhelming nature of this week a little better. I am seriously drowning, people. If I could just stop the community board apps from coming in, and the make the school buses run the right way, and stop crime under the Manhattan Bridge, it would be righteous.
Judged at the NYU tournament this weekend past, which was strangely bizarre. Lots of sensory memories, topped with this being a super shitty time of year, have been generally off-putting as of late. This weekend sees the engagement party of roommates. Hopefully I can put on a game face for the bazillion people stomping through the pad.
Saw Peter, Bjorn, and John with Simba and John Kleshefsky. They were disappointing. Also saw Jonathan Richman with Simba, M. Cocca, and M. Bates. It was far more satisfying. A merrily ironic time was had by all.
Am I the only one loving this cold weather? Dude! Sweaters!
current mood: tired
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| Friday, January 5th, 2007
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2:28 am - Ruminations on Grooming Habits
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This post may seem a bit vain, even downright trivial, but it's time for an revelation. I have great hair. That is not to say that I take great care of it, or look great all the time. Far from it. Yet I know that I have great hair.
How do I come to know this? The good staff at Astor Hair have been telling me since 1999. What can I say, my NYU habits die hard. I have never had the same barber, but every time I walk in I get seated before someone that does not really speak English and has autographed pictures of minor celebrities and athletes on their mirror. These barbers are generally of South American or European descent. We communicate with basic words and phrases like "long," "short," layered," and "the part is in the middle." I would love to get a haircut during the World Cup.
Once, Armando had a long conversation on his wireless cell phone while cutting my hair. It was unnerving, not because I feared that I might look bad, but because I feared he might stab me in the neck in the event his correspondent told him that Germany had the best football team. Then, I looked fabulous.
So this evening, I sat in Ernesto's chair and got a hair cut. And he said the same thing they all say: "You have beautiful hair! Why do you not take care of it!? Let me show you how pretty you are!!!" I glanced to the station to the left and noted that his neighbor Luigi had an autographed picture of George Pataki. I thought there was a chance I could ask for that "Shitty Ex-Governor" look that might take Iowa by storm.
Regardless, Ernesto whispered sweet Italian nothings into my ear while telling me that I have great hair, asking me if it's my natural color, and telling me that he would make it look wonderful. It is thick and wavy, yet can fall to the side or be molded! The color is brown, then red! Then blonde! I'd be flattered if I hadn't heard it a million times. When it was all over, he grabbed his hand mirror and asked me how I liked it.
I admit, I don't really listen to Mariah Carey. But having her hair style actually kinda works. To show that I am not a bad person, I gave him the satisfaction of applying hair spray before I went to the gym and ruined his vision. Ernesto just seemed so proud of his work. He gave me his card and asked me to come back whenever I needed a cut. He would love to work on my hair again. Like they all do.
I would be cynical and say that it is something they are supposed to say for a tip. But is too much of a coincidence that they all say the same thing about how awesome my hair is like they are reading a script. And they don't say it to everybody. That guy getting a buzzcut on my right was getting no love from Irena.
Still, after the product washes out, the result is always a cheap, decent cut that is manageable and stylish. When I shower tomorrow, my fresh Astor Hair style will look lovely. Until I stop taking care of it.
current mood: indifferent
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| Wednesday, August 23rd, 2006
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1:48 am - Respect the Bike Lane
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Tonight was wonderful because I could swear I saw a B-52 on the platform of the Broadway-Lafayette stop. The rocker, not the airplane. Though the latter would be rather impressive. Personally, I always thought the link between Brooklyn and Queens should be armored warcraft.
Today also saw my splurging on a DVD set upon its release for the first time in, yes gentle reader, years. Now we all know I love Veronica Mars, but according to the informative packet that I extracted from its innards... MAMA'S FAMILY is also available for purchase. How can I forsake the Sunday morning programming of the WXXA TV-23 of old? Does this make me a Southerner? Roommate hates her Southern origins, prompting the following correspondence: "Dear The South. Please stop talking all the time. The end. Love, Ginny."
To conclude, I should mention that this weekend was very Snakes on a Plane-centric. There was the whole part leading up to it, then there was seeing it, and now there is the glorious aftermath. It's really a metaphor for my life, now that I think about it.
current mood:  anxious
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| Wednesday, August 9th, 2006
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9:17 pm - Boy, It Really Isn't Worth Watching If You Don't Bet
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Sojourned north to the Capital Region for an extended weekend. There was a family reunion out by Seneca Lake. Grandma Cooley is a font of sagacity and hilarity, as the following quotes will no doubt demonstrate.
She spoke often of her parents and the bar/grill that my great-grandfather ran across the street from Cohoes City Hall. Apparently, he was into ward politics, and he also "was a bookie, so my mother would drive us to the track, and I would go hang out with the jockie's wives." He bought a car without a license, so my great-grandmother drove him everywhere, "but she was fine with that, since he could drink too much, and then she could take the car and give people rides to Bingo." Also:
GC: What's that song, on a clear day you can see forever?
Relative: Barbara Streisand, right?
GC: Yeah, but what did she know.
Saw Catherine, Susan, and Rachelle, which was superfly. Went over to check out Susan's new digs and had dinner with her gentleman friend. The apartment is rad and he seemed nice. Always trust someone that listens to Cibo Matto and owns "Deliverance" on DVD.
Can we pause and reflect on the fact that there is a GAY BAR in Cohoes, NY? Just a stone's throw from the falls!
Had a relaxing time, in general. It has been a long time since I've been comfortable going upstate. Sadly, the trip did not include an excursion to the Gateway Diner or a game of Erotic Photo Hunt. Spent some time reading for The Book Club That Dare Not Speak Its Name on my grandma's porch, and not only is the book quite good, but was apropos to my trip. Mark Helprin's "Winter's Tale" has lots of language about New York City, upstate New York and travel between the two. The coincidence was sublime.
Upon my arrival back in Brooklyn, my roommates offered me Shepherd's Pie.
current mood:  relaxed
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| Monday, June 12th, 2006
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10:12 pm - You Don't Start Nuthin, There Won't Be Nuthin
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While biking past the Drummer's Grove on the Prospect Park Drive yesterday afternoon, I passed a man juggling on a unicycle.
Went to Brooklyn Pride this weekend. Got to march in the parade and everything. Marty kept saying "LGBT spells Brooklyn!!!" The party machine had "Marty" written in lights, and I'm fairly sure the whole contraption was visible from space. Kinda wanted to ask him how one spells "cataract."
Played boccie on Friday in Boerum Hill, and successively lost a few times. But hey, at least I got to introduce Roommate to the fast-paced splendor of rolling heavy balls.
Oh, and the point of all this is that Brooklyn is rad.
current mood: pleased
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| Thursday, June 1st, 2006
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1:36 am - Ubiquitous and Shy and Articulate
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Are just three of the words used to describe me in the last month. Really should update more. When I get to this journal thing, there is usually so much to say that nothing will suffice. Regardless, my month:
Fixed up my bike a bit and have really been enjoying the fact that I live half a block from Prospect Park, and thus, half a block from the drive. Also biked out to the Rockaways. I tells ya, and it has been a gut feeling for a while, I'm going to retire on that special part of New York City that is not quite Long Island. I will play lots of Scrabble and Rummy, and I will drink Rusty Nails. Once a day.
The Book Club That Dare Not Speak Its Name is splendid as usual. This month we read "A Wild Sheep Chase," by Haruki Murakami. It's like a Bunuel film, only on paper. A co-worker wants me form a book club with her, but I don't know if I have the dork reservoir to be in TWO book clubs.
Simba and I have enjoyed some surreal times, including late nights at our new favorite bar in Red Hook, and drinking malted beverages over the Gowanus Canal. We have also been playing Scrabble a lot. Have managed to emerge victorious, but I fear that my days of one-on-one victory are numbered. I think he has been training himself on letters that involve the letter "J," and he is showing signs of a resilient vocabulary.
Went to Rhythm & Booze with EML. The entire summer I lived in Windsor Terrace, I could not help but chuckle at the very existence of this place. When EML suggested it, I figured I would make dreams come true. And let me tell you, it was a true Brooklyn dream. Some random BK guy touched me and I threw him the dirtiest look possible. Those that know the "BK guy" stereotype will understand. Civilians should know that he resembles a Long Island boy without money. Wifebeaters and day-old stubble are prevalent facets.
Took the plunge and went back to Albany for Mother's Day. It was awkward. Did get a chance to see a very good, old friend from high school, who is now a friggin' cop. Seriously, my Bitter Irish Thug carries a gun and has a badge.
It's June now. This month has already worn me out. We'll talk after all the receptions and galas and ceremonies and fundraisers and parades. And cheese. I'm fine being out and proud all month as long as these events have cheese. Preferably gouda.
current mood: geeky
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| Thursday, May 4th, 2006
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1:58 am - Cheese in the Whale Room
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Tonight, I crushed Simba at Scrabble. It was quite rewarding, because I was not really in the mood to play and had been convinced my verbal skills would perish in the wake of sushi and beer. I totally triple-word-scored with "fez," which is not only a city, and the name of a hat, but the name of a feisty character on the Fox network. The day was mine.
A fun perk of the job is the cool events we occasionally throw, such as a reception at the Museum of Natural History. I recall visiting this particular room when I was seven or eight with my father, and I think he would have dug the fact that my occupation called on me to eat cheese and talk about community benefits agreements beneath a ginormous blue whale.
Alex is going back to Romania. I am sad.
Tomorrow, book club! It was my pick, "Never Let Me Go," by Kazuo Ishiguro. Really have to learn to read in places that are not the subway.
current mood: mellow
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| Friday, April 14th, 2006
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1:49 am - I Know, I Know, It's Serious
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It has been brought to my attention that I have not been so happy these days. A quick review of my LJ moods in the past three months were a bit of a revelation. I seem to range somewhere between "cynical" to "apathetic" to "complacent." Hmph.
Two concerned e-mails and one awful fight later, I have realized that, yes, I tend to take things to heart. Not to be confused with personal - I don't get too emotionally involved in matters - but I do tend to want to make people "happy" and take an unnatural amount of ownership over said "happiness." This revelation is the result of a rather painful argument. I am not heart-broken by failures, but I sure do wish things turned out differently. The basis of this argument was founded, but the delivery was presumptive and painful for all parties involved. And while most of the analysis was flawed and demonstrated knowledge of only a portion of my emotional make-up, it was good for self-reflection.
I have often been bad at vocalizing of my flaws. Yet I am acutely self-aware, and would not count ignorance as a flaw. I self-analyze, or more accurately, self-criticize, and am painfully aware of the things that have put me where I am or have kept me from where I could be. I am all too aware of moronic things I have done, and the great things that I have neglected. My awareness of these things spurs me to do great things, or at least makes me feel guilty when I do not.
In other news, I have been sick. When I returned to work, I discovered that an inter-office discussion about Morrissey had played to my advantage. I got to make a joke about clove cigarettes, y'all.
Each day is a new beginning. I have more friends than I can count and I have rad sisters and a mother that is aloof but loving. I love my job, stressful as it is, and I like my apartment and my roommates. Today, The Man told me I was doing a great job. We just chatted for about 15 minutes about this and that, and he asked me about my holiday plans. The Man seems to care.
Maybe I'll get to ride my bike this weekend.
current mood:  blank
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| Monday, March 6th, 2006
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12:16 am - More Queens in Queens
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On this day, I actualized my potential as an Irish Lesbian. With prostesters! Can't have a gay St. Patrick's Day parade without someone telling me that I'm going to hell.
Shaan and the ever-lovely Ms. Findley kicked my ass at Connect Four. Or rather, I had a respectable 12-10 loss to Mr. Khan and a complete floor-mopping with Ms. Findley. Perhaps boccie ball is my game.
Would love to report on anything other than work, except work is a majority of my life. Yesterday, I slept very late and watched Luis Bunuel and ate a lot and did not talk to a living person. It was actually pretty awesome.
current mood: complacent
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| Sunday, February 26th, 2006
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4:27 am - But We Like You! People Will Come if You Are There!
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Gave a CB presentation to Lower East Siders today. They gave me daffodils.
This Friday past, I witnessed the ever-lovely Ms. Findley and Shaan Khan play boccie ball indoors, while M. Glass and I looked on. Next Friday will see a critical "Connect Four" rematch between Mr. Khan and myself. He just cannot handle that I defeated him. Although he went on to crush me at "War," his pride was irreparably damaged.
current mood: apathetic
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| Thursday, February 16th, 2006
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11:16 pm - It's All Very Exciting
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Everyone needs to know that there is a play called "Real Black Men Don't Sit Crosslegged on the Floor" in the Lower East Side right now.
Another item of great importance: I had a business lunch at the NYU Torch Club today. Felt like a rock star. A pathetic, past-her-prime-throwing-whiskey-bottles-at-the-wall rockstar. I'm sorry, but I don't think I'll be able to socialize with anyone that has NOT lunched at the Torch Club.
current mood: drained
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| Sunday, February 12th, 2006
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8:54 pm - Queens in Queens
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A belated kung hoi fat choi to you all. My Lunar New Year involved various flower markets, lion dances and dinners, the best of which included "Simply the Best" as a recurring musical theme. Much love for the Chinatown.
Work is crazy busy, but now I have business cards. The lettering is blue.
This weekend sucked. Spent the anniversary at a dinner-dance where I networked and met lots of important people, and was totally miserable the entire time. Sometimes I miss my Dad terribly and sometimes it is as if life is totally normal and I almost forget the crap. This weekend was the former. Did go out to dinner with the ever-marvelous M. Cocca and a party with Shaan and the ever-lovely Miss Findley, in an effort to not be completely anti-social.
In other news, Battlestar Galactica has been disappointing and I really want to buy the new Belle & Sebastian album.
current mood: melancholy
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| Tuesday, December 27th, 2005
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10:05 am - This One Is Different Because It's Ours
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Celebrated my 25th in style this year. Specifically, I was fed eggs in the morning by the radiant Miss Panaite, cake and brie and apples in the afternoon by the inimitable M. Cocca, and sushi and whiskey in the evening with the unstoppable Miss Joseph. The night previous was spent in the Subway Inn, an Upper East Side bar filled with individuals and bathroom facilities of ill repute and questionable morals. Would deny singing "Hand in Glove" into a beer bottle, but Miss Panaite has the video to prove it.
As it is, I listen to that song way too much. I mean, it's gay and catchy, what's not to like? I had the following exchange with my sister Martha about going to the gym...
Mary: Well I like to listen to trance music when I exercise, but my friend Shaan likes to listen to Morrissey, and then all the gym attendants wonder why there's this guy crying on the elliptical.
Martha: Well the real question is - why is he working out when no one will ever love him?
Anyway. So like, you guys? I got some serious, not-effing-around, presents for the birthday. Shaan gave me a David Allan Coe CD, in preparation for my residence in the state of Nebraska. Am adorning the Hot Sox from the ever-lovely Miss Findley. Also got DVDs of Ran, Serenity, and Robin Hood. The Disney cartoon version, not the Kevin Costner version, as my sister Bridget anxiously clarified when she called to finalize our Christmas plan.
Spent X-mas in Brooklyn with my sister Bridget, as the transit strike left us both physically and financially strained. The transit strike seriously sucked, y'all. Walking over the Brooklyn Bridge is supposed to be scenic and romantic, not a major pain in the ass. At least Bridget and I celebrated the birth of our lord Jesus in the fashion becoming any self-respecting Cooley: lots of cheese, meat, wine, and DVDs of Battlestar Galactica. Bridget was horrified that I had never seen Dodgeball, and took steps to remedy the situation. All told, a sedate yet merry holiday was had.
current mood: complacent
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| Friday, December 23rd, 2005
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9:41 am - 6 Train, You're a Lady
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I got to ride the subway this morning.
Thanks, MTA. You didn't have to get me anything.
current mood: happy
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| Saturday, December 3rd, 2005
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1:38 pm - Where Is the Funny?
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At the behest of several individuals, I have decided to update. See me updating? Good.
Thanksgiving in Albany was a bit awkward, in part due to Mothra's absence, but mostly because I loathe visiting the 518 with a deep, fiery passion. My visits home are a harsh reminder of a life that I will never, ever have again. Ever. Anyway. The Buffalo wings were satisfactory, albeit delayed, and I had a lovely excursion with Catherine and Heather in which I introduced them to Erotic Photo Hunt. I tells ya, shouting "Tittie!" in a crowded bar never gets old. My 15-year-old cousin and I had an intelligent conversation about The Crucible and she informed me that she likes Interpol, and has even seen them live. My heart swelled with pride for this girl that is really off to an early start toward being Virginia Wolfe. Pity she loves so close to the East River.
Am temping at the office of the inimitable M. Cocca until I start at the Borough President's office in January. Upon hearing that a co-worker thinks Miss K is "bubbly," I have decided to deluge her with e-mails of Radiohead lyrics and Jane-Jacobs-bashing subject lines. Got off to a splendid start with "Jane Jacobs is a Stupid Tramp." Don't get me wrong, I love the Jane Jacobs, but it is so easy to draw M. Cocca's ire when I talk about how one-way streets are awesome.
My sister Bridget gave me the Veronica Mars Season 1 DVDs. My roommates have become obsessed, and are now struggling over whether to ditch the lackluster second season of Lost in favor of the still-exemplary girl detective. Alyson Hannigan was on the latest episode, and had a run-in with Charisma Carpenter on screen. It was delicious.
Went to see The Colbert Report with the ever-lovely Renee Findley, as well as Kate and Sarah. Oh how I love Steven Colbert. Sarah asked him about the Strangers with Candy movie, and I remembered my new mental happy place. Y'all might as well know that calm blue ocean has been replaced by the idea of Amy Sedaris and Parker Posey in a water-gun fight.
Have decided to throw a New Year's party, in the tradition of, well, pretty much ever year in recent memory. There was that one year when M. Cocca came to Albany and we watched James Spader movies. In the spirit of giving and snark, I have decided to name this Cooleyfest for Hillary's underwhelming opponent. Everyone should come to "The Jeanine Pirro Holiday Charity Auction Spectacular." Merry will be made, fun will be had, and all proceeds will go directly into the next case of beer. And hey! Maybe this year I will get to drink whiskey instead of Tussin.
current mood: calm
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