hello delicous....

alright...so plans have changed. and i had my burrito at lunch because i desperately needed a reason to go on. But, I thought I would share my true personal feeling about the concept of the Burrito.

Little over a year ago, I did not understand the wonderfulness that was the burrito.

I spent many a day, following friends to this world renowned burrito joint in boston, only to watch them eat and not order anything for myself. The idea. The idea that all off my food was wrapped into a 2 x 4 ball of dough was...well, lets just say it turned me off. All my food at once. All those individual delicate flavors wrapped into one monstrosity and then served to those with less appreciation for the wonder that is the human pallet would gobble it down. I mean...it was like a little Mexican conspiracy. Not only did i detest them for introducing it to the American market, but I pitied those that ate it. "Tricked and Bamboozled" is what i said about them. Like pawns being left out to die.

But alas. (And you probably will not hear me say this alot). But I was, in deed wrong.

The Idea. Is not to wrap all the food up, denouncing the flavor and individual quality of each separate ingredient. The idea is to embellish on each ingredient and make it one. No fork. No knife. The rich divinity is indeed the infusion of flavor. Making every bite...like a step closer to heaven. A heaven that Mexico has known about for years.

The only thing I can do is hang my head in shame for my years past. Filled with chips and dip and quesidillas (please pronounce the "L's"). Indeed, I was a fool. But know I am enlightened. Hello Chef Allah. Hola Budah, el Jefe de cocina. I am truly enlightened.


someone just pooped in my cereal.

(let's rant)
if you ever wondered what the recipe is for a crap day...it is as following:

Miss information. When one comes into work thinking that he or she is going to have a half day, has planned their entire day around that fact, and then is informed that the market indeed will not close early, therefor causing a full day of work for everyone in the office. This is ingredient one.

Snow. Everyone who is grown up truly knows what this means. The magic that was once, snow falling from the sky causing the child inside to light up like a pre-boxed, lights included christmas tree is over and done with. Snow is no longer something that causes you run outside with your mouth open to the sky. It is the devils breath. Hazardous to the daily commuter and worst of all...a sure way to ruin a good pair of dress shoes.

1/2 assed Holidays. Like say the celebration of a new year. Wha ho ho...the digits at the end of the number 2000 are going to change. Lets get all up in arms about it, and drop a duffel bag of monopoly money from the sky. Well, perhaps this would be celebration worthy, if I had plans or even the incling of a prospective good time. All I see in my near future is a burrito, a bottle of merlot and a night of the Office season 2 on DVD. Fortunately, I do get to save the streamers until next year...you know with inflation and all.

Well, lets get this day out of the way.

Happy New Year!

May it bring you a renewed sense of apathy and heavy make-out sessions.



Us Placers. Kanye. Lupe. Pharell. Thom York.

Coca-Cola says...

I'm kinda on the wall about this spot. I mean...I get it. But, waht exactly does it have to do with Coca-Cola? Maybe it's one of those "already established" brand executions. But if you replace the coke santa at the end, and say have a Sprite Santa....who would know the diff (sans the product placement at the table and the xmas bottle graphic...which was nice).

Advertising Agency: Ogilvy, Argentina

Ads. My life. My love.

simple. clever. I like.

road bump of randomness.

So I went home for Christmas. And while I would love to do a play by play of the awesome time I had in NY, I feel it would be an injustice to you the reader. You would just end up reading it, envying me and my fabulous life (yes, I did use the f word)...and then follow it all up with a suicide. Inwhich, btw...you cannot go to heaven after. Instead, I will regail you with this brief yet pertinent blog about nothing in particular.

Tit for Tat: If you ever, ever, ever wondered what Britney Spears' breasts looked like...please click here. And if you have never wondered, I mean like...in the wholeness of her career...like even when she did "Slave For You" or when she wore the sparkly body suit while she danced with the yellow snake at the MTV awards...then you are either a "hobo's mistress" or a "white loafer wearer." In either case, you simply need to be more in touch with your emotions.

Rules of Life: (this is a new section, that will be an ongoing and ever evolving thing...it should be uhhhh new and fun)
1. When others can see your socks, while you are standing, yet you claim to be wearing long pants. You are wrong. Your pants indeed do not fit as intended. They are high waters. And you are stupid.
2. Face book. There should be rules about what you are allowed to put on facebook. Recently I reconnected with an elementary school "friend" who is in the armed forces. And though I appreciate the whole freedom thing and posting your life thing. Lets not post pics of you and your compadres in the midst of war. This is facebook taken too far. Your tagging people who might not make it home. You got guns all over the pictures. I mean......
3. Valour Pull overs for men...is never a good look. You may think you look like Tony Soprano, but I promise you...that is not what the rest of the world is thinking.
4. It isn't ok to be over 30 years of age, and still play "tea" with your dolls.
5. On public trans, just because you whipped the snot from your nose onto you hand, does not mean you have gotten rid of the snot completely. It is still on you hand. The same hand that has decided to hold onto the pole infront of me.

New Years. I am still waiting for a brilliant suggestion for new years. It's my first one, spent out side of NY, away from family, and not in church. I'm not down with the cool kids. I am thinking however, perhaps a rented movie and a bottle of shiraz, may work out for me. Or maybe just a nap...a year changing nap. Speaking of blatant counter productive life doings.....lets talk resolutions of the new year. Here is my list so far.
1. To dress better.
2. To never joke with anyone again.
3. To find a job.
4. And of coarse...like everyone else...get in shape.

......this is all I have for now. And that's sad.

Anyway, I am glad to be back in the chi. But only because 1. I get paid to be in the chi 2. It will give my metabolism a chance to catch up with my food intake. I know I am that fat kid now. Thanks alot holidays.


over and out.

the magic is fading fast
of all the great things past
the laughter shared, the interesting glares
and of how we moved as one mass

the tall building sheltered us
education melted us
to open up, our true selves
and it was good, those moments a new
when a Wednesday night open bar, where always too few

now i am walking
a path with a definite end
no walls, low ceilings...but I will always remember how it began
crossing three states, hours per rate
many beers, and no fears
paramount conversations, and stressful stress-free days
when there were no toes to step on, less bills to pay
but its is over now

that sweet, safe, fun and interesting place
is over
i wish to know no more, experience much less
without judgment, fear, demoralization and misunderstandings
it is over.

believe that.

-shaun williams

new york, stand up.


too funny.

These ads made me laugh out loud. Few things on papaer make me do that. I love advertising.

Hamburg, Germany

a christmas favorite.


Heavily Gift Wrapped.

Virgin Sex. I feel it is truly my job to inform you (loyal and not-so-loyal readers) about the juxtaposition that is this debate regarding the loss of virginity-sexual promiscuity. I know. I know. You are thinking, "Shaun...that is so last year." But upon recent discoveries...even a sexual genius, such as myself, has a few doubts.

According to
this website, there are many reasons why a young person hold on to their virginity- such as 1. "wanting sex right now "(the website's alternative tab choice to keeping it in your pants) only leads to herpes, 2. they now make and sell abstinators, which basically assist in the keeping of one's virginity with technology such as ugly glasses and BO spray 3. "Everyone" is NOT doing it. Though, you thought think they were. Yet there are commercials out there amping promiscuity (and awesome memory), and making this sex thing seem...well, cool. And everyone knows...ads tell the truth.

So what is a young boy or girl to do in such a time of targeted altering messages and sexual translucency? I mean...both messages make sense. I mean, I know what I am going to do. I cant speak for everyone. But I am going to build a time machine....go back to 2002 and get my virginity back. Fast.

On a festive note. Ever wonder what animal lovers do on the holiday? No? Me niether. But Peta has got an awesome
website, which helps you figure out who to hate this christmas season. My favorite is Ann Wintour and Kate Moss. If you shake the globe well enough...Kate's cocaine flies right out of your screen and onto your desk. A Christmas miracle if you will. Here is my question. Are Peta people ok with the fact that Reindeer pull Santa's sleigh? You think they would rather something...a bit more eco-friendly.

Naughty or Nice. Or Nicely Naughty. Remember when Jaime Lyn Spears had
commercials such as these. Yeah, me neither....but according to recent news, it looks like she will need a new target audience. Like, unwed 16 year olds getting knocked up by live-in 19 year old boys. And correct me if I am wrong...but Nickelodeon doesn't really specialize in that market. Not recently, anyway. In other nicely naughty news...check out the anti smoking ad displayed to your right. Yes, this man is missing a jaw. Oh, Canada, what I wouldn't do to visit your country and puke all over your public trans, household living room couches and newspaper stands, as I walked the streets. Cause it is only in Canada...and select third world countries, that one has to worry about the pages in between the actual magazine articles making you nauscouse. Check this one too. You have to read the instructions. Always. Or you could die. Simple, hard, cold fact. I love you Canada.

And we will end on this classy note. Check your balls...regularly.

-Goodnight Chicago...see you in a week. Im off to the mother land (New York).


Jay Z . Roc Boys.


Hell Yeah.

Tag: Mariah Carey. Freeway. Swizz Beats. Jada Kiss. Nas. Puffy.....

I miss New York.


30 years old and loving it.

I thought. It was suppose to be like- when I turn 30 and I am still single and alone....

Isn't that the cue for parents to start nagging you about being...single and alone? When they get that heroin itch for grand children and infant holiday shopping and knitting and all that.?Well...this man's mom seems to have missed the memo. That switch has flipped (in he rmind)and for the past 3 out of 4 conversations I have had the theme...and by theme I mean, blatant questions such as..."Did you find a nice girlfriend out there in chicago yet." is always, always asked. To which when I tell the truth, I get scorned and/or and met with a puzzled voice wondering why a young man quote..."wouldn't want company when they are lonely."

So, these conversations, by chance, have brought me to a few life conclusions.

1. All you early 20ers who are in these magnificent all endearing relationships...you're all f*ckers ruining the lives of single young non-professionals everywhere. If you are currently "living" with someone (or acting like you are living with someone) or even know the protocol for the purchasing of "rings"...or jibber jabbering about being the "one" or find him/her, then yes, I am speaking of you. Your arses (That's british) and you're currently ruining my life.

2. No matter how old you get, you are never too old to exaggerate and/or slightly alter the truth, when parents ask you certain things. Just when you thought you no longer had to mask that all night house party from your parents with a "bff sleep over," you definitely still have to press the omit when parents ask you about your friend's love life. The phrase "they'll probably get married" should never be uttered. You are sinking your own ship of singledom. Edit, is indeed the word of the day-otherwise you are jinxing yourself to a life of doom and gloom and comparison. 

3. Relationships are the new dream career. In this day in age, forget actually doing what you went to school to do. Forget, living a life when you love every minute of your life and job. Forget establishing yourself. Nope. We all must find the love of our lives before we hit a quarter of a decade. Mucho importante. Life is love, and love will keep you happy and then pay the bills.

What happened to the old fashion dating...hooking up in a bar, trying to kindle a relationship and letting it fall by the weigh side a few months later? Gosh. The Pressure is paramount.



little mistakes. life long problems.


"L" is for life. That's good enough for me.

welcome to life update. like moths to a fire or chicken to a wing, I know you were wondering about my owe so dymanic life.

So...read on.

Holiday Joke.
What type of music do elves listen to? Gift Rap Music.
These is the joke that made me chuckle out loud, whilst I rode the holiday train. "What is the holiday train?" you may ask. Well, if you are a Chicagoan, you know that every year around this time, the CTA designates several trains for a holiday make over. Seats are upholstered in santa faces and snow flakes. The windows are frosted to depict a winter wonderland. Poles become candy Cains. And elves walk around giving out real candy. Even the horrid public trans ads are replaced with clever Christmas related ones like, "Comet Bowling Lanes" or "Santa Hello Wanted Ads." And though it seems, oh so childish....after a crap day doing crap work...I literally hoped on the wrong train just to experience this winter delight. And....it was completely worth the extra 10 blocks I had to walk home. And there was no silly kids around (rush hour) or homeless people (who tend to be inclined to ruin train rides). I mean...I'm not really all that into Christmas this year, but this made me smile.

Then as I was waiting on line to get off the platform, low an behold...Santa (in person) replacing an entire freakin train cart...was waving at me (specifically) as he sat in his sled surround by others in garb...maybe the Apostles or Athena or something. And in that wonderful Christmas moment all I could think was, "I wonder how much he gets paid for that gig."

That's Phat. But what we really need is Fat. Kelly, my roommate along with myself are holding open auditions for fat people to add to our social circle. Why? Because we think that every worthy group of social hierarchy has one fat friend. The jolly one, who is down for anything...and delivers one lines like "Yeah you got that" and "I'm hungry" to which we can tell him that he is always hungry(insert drumroll here). He would also, always be nice...because you know..he is fat. And there is that looming truth that all fat people need be the funniest people in the world. Think of any highschool football movie you have ever watched in your life. We want that guy.
It would complete the circle:
Me: Token black guy (to the point that if there is another black man in the room, I plan his untimely death)
Kelly: The good kid with bad luck
Kellen: Country Bumpkin
Matt: Pissed Off Kid, with an over bite
And then the friendship circle was complete, with the finding of our future Bubba or Tank or Little _____. I'm excited.

Dilemma. This year will be my first year...in my life, that I will not be at home, with my parental bringing in the New Year in church. From 11pm to 12:10, I am usually in God's good place, listening to the good word. That means, yes...I have never experienced the countdown, no...I have never kissed anyone on New years....and yes, I have no clue what to do in preparation for this eve thing.
I feel like I am going to end up home alone. And by home, I mean in Chicago. Not even home, home. Someone help me out here...I'm poor...I'm unmotivated and...I need an alibi to make me look cool, or something....Ayudame.

Ok, I'm done. I actually have alot of work to do.
And after work. Gotta work out (yep, you heard right), gotta stop by a b-day party. Co-hosting and Ugly Christmas Sweater party tonight. Then tomorrow, I gotta try to get my xmas shopping out of the way and pick up gifts for this Sant'as Helpers program I'm participating in (Shaun love the kids). Then I gotta get back on the ad making wagon....otherwise its a progressive downhill slop to doing what I do now, for the rest of my life. Whap whap.

California Dreamin.

pigeon colonies.

Every day, I wake up at the same time. I brush my teeth the same way and check the weather on the same station. I close my front gate and speed walk to my train. Along the same path in the exact same way. I stare blankly at the opposing "L" platform waiting for the same train to take me to the same place and ask myself..."Why would people need to go north to get to work?" It just never seems to never make sense at this hour. 7:30 am...everyday.I get off at the same station. And at the bottom of the stairs, am surrounded by the same people push and shoving and living on my heels. I step to the side, light a cigarette and watch the festering of pigeons that always huddle under the same over pass.

Hundreds of them. All of them pecking the wet ground for scraps. Unconscious to the world around them, they perform their routine of randomness...not missing a step. As one pecks down, the other looks up. Two flutter away, and another two take their place. A path is cleared for the brave morning soul that has forgotten the effects of the bird flu. And is filled in immediately after. They have done this before you see. Day after day. The same place and the same actions. The same thoughts and the same responses. Though they all look different and hold their own faint glimpse of individuality, to me they all are the same. Pecking. Mass. Clueless. Monotonous. Drones. Enslaved my life.

And it is this I fear. Not the reality of growing up. Not the impeding threat of failure. Not even the wickedness and fallacy of humanity.

I fear becoming just another pigeon.

retro brilliance.

holy giant shrimp.

Success. Success is...

-having your "job" throw an eight hour open bar on a Friday night (night of mayhem) and not only surviving, but also NOT making a fool of myself.

-re-affirming that I still got it, when it comes to getting dressed to impress.

-getting ambushed by work colleagues into karaoke singing "Material Girl" by myself...and rocking it.

-eating giant mutant shrimp, surely from another universe and living to tell and regail the story to the masses.

-attending the after party to 8 hours of debauchery at a hotel...and still NOT making a fool of myself.

-finding yet another hot spot to take friends if they ever come to town to visit me (though its all the way in Wicker Park).

-consuming slices from the all night pizza place around the corner from my house only once, in the span of the week (especially when your average is about 4-5 times a week).

-eating an entire bag of popcorn as I watched 2 hours of a pro choice/anti-religious themed movie cloaked in fictitious talking animals, fighting polar bears and semi-attractive witches.

This...is success.




punching bags wear make-up.

And if you have not seen the movie Alpha Dogs, which I am in no way recommending, I am about to show you the best part of the entire movie.

Yes, that woman did, just get punched dead in the face. And yes, it was funny.

compasses and such.

I was made aware of the current "debate" regarding the release of the new movie The Golden Compass. Which is a fantasy movie about a young girl traveling through an absurd world of talking animals called Daemons (which represents one's true self), witches and drinking polar bears. And though, I usually do not pay attention to things such as this...this one has stirred in me a particular and unique interest.

Critics say the following about the author of the book and its under tones. And by critics, I mean Christians. Which is sorta interesting. Similar to the up roar about the Harry Potter Series, this series of 3 books (the Golden Compass being the first) written by Phillip Pullman supposedly has strong undertones of anti-religion. Like the main bad guy is called The Church and apparently in the last book of the series God is killed. And though I can speak freely about the first book which I read like 10 years ago, who knows what happened in the last. But lets say it does. Lets say Pullman did indeed write these books to shank Christianity in the gut. Let's say this movie premiere boosts the sale of the book right before christmas and thousands of unsuspecting children receives the How-To handbooks of atheism.

Who cares?

1. The Jesus crew needs to do a step back. Christians are up in arms about the release of this movie. Slander to their beliefs and propaganda meant to spoil the predetermined spirituality of the up coming generation. Yet, it is still just that...a book. Three books. a. If you don't like the idea of the movie, don't go see it. b. no little kid is going to pick-up on the anti-religious themes of the book. c. If you are an adult and you let this movie...a form of entertainment either change your views about your beliefs or shape them...then you are probably not the brightest crayon in the box. I mean, really...when was the last time you heard of an atheist terrorist group?

2. Hypocrites. Why is it that Christians are able to condemn people for not following their beliefs, but no one else can speak their minds. I have heard, with my own ears, several Christians...both close and afar, condemn those with different beliefs to Hell. Hell. Like, eternal damnation...just because they think differently. So lord forbid, a random man in a random part of the world discloses his/her different beliefs and spread it.

3. It's just a book. Pages of fantasy. Made up. Polar bears don't actually talk. There is not magical golden compass. People will see the movie and see it for just what it is. Entertainment. Where is the angst coming from? I mean it is not an organized army of fanatics marching across a continent killing all those in their path who don't convert. Oh wait.....

Overall, there's just a lack of the true understanding of where one's beliefs and being really come from. It certainly doesn't come from a book or a movie. It comes from the home. And if you have to shout and scream about a form of entertainment, and worry about its effects on your proclaimed people....then maybe there is a bigger problem. A problem that should be searched out within your own ranks.

And hey, I read the book when I was a kid....and look how I turned out.

(Big Smile).


walk or run.

When a speed walk racer is chased by killer Samurais (as if there are really any other kind), does he walk or run?

Place your bets.

"Because I run a little faster than I walk."

giving is better.

Christmas Chronicles. Part Duex.

I have decided again this year to share my holiday wants and needs with the Internet blogosphere. Why? Maybe its the internal need for approval. Or maybe its my overwhelming urge to keep you...the reader updated, with me, the blogger...in hopes of establishing some sort of bond or understanding or...connection.

But mostly, I'm just hoping that one of you gnarly individuals will surprise me. And by surprise, I mean prearrange gifts, with little to no room for purchase mistakes.

1. Sweaters. This new look...the shawl, is A ok with me. And though stores such Old Navy and the Gap have styles that are similar....please note the quality and fine detail of the sweater portrayed in the sweater provided. Think Banana Republic, if you, Santa...are going down this route. Also think neutral colors. White, Dark grey, Brown. And as always, Half zips, zipper cardigans , hooded, and mock turtle neck are also accepted. I dunno, for some reason I want something white and sweatery...or cream. This seems to be in right now.

2. In an attempt at ending this jean fetish I have, I would like to end it (for now) with the Black Rocco M11 Boot CutBlack Resin at Man press. Please note the word black. This will bring the collection to a full circle...at least until the summer time, when I will probably need light jeans. I will use these black jeans either to fight the dark forces of the underworld or to rock out with my c*ck out. I mean, in.

And as always...I am in need of slacks to further my professional career, or lack there of. 34 x34. Be kind, baby Jesus...be kind.

3. These Deisels blow my mind. Diesel Paralex. I don't think I have truly wanted a sneaker this bad in like....3 years. I was just starting to give up and lead a life of a barefoot stay at home dad. Anything would be better than not having shoes I love.
Another option would have been, becoming a monk .

4. Money. Or gift cards. But don't be giving me gift cards to stores that you know the alloted amount you gave me, won't purchase anything. Like, $10 to Ralph Lauren. Or $20 to BR. I might have to slit your throat if this occurs...slit it with your own gift card. I kid. I kid. I will just never use it...because...you see, if I had enough money in the first place, I wouldn't need to ask for gifts. 10% of a possible gift just doesn't rock my socks as much as a whole complete gift from your heart. You can however, simply give me $10. LoL

And that's it. For now. I am not picky...as long as you adhere to the guidelines posted above. Thanks in advance. {wink}



laugh, one more time.

I think there is something to be said about a society equipped with the cynicism and technology to turn an idol into a funny.

That thing to be said is......Geniusness.

your nutz. lol.

We all know the Chip Munks from our past. Fond, fond memories I am sure we can all share around the camp fire. Qoutes of "Meeee, I want a Huuula Hooop" in a high pitched whiny voice and stories about our favorite episodes could perhaps be the cause of smiles and laughter. And the thing is...these little guys Alvin, Simon and Thoedore are inter generational. Like, your parents also grew up with them. Empowering to say the least.

But today I come to heed a warning. These little woodland creatures are not as innocent as they appear. After decades of portrayed complacent jovial antics...I have come to shed a little light of the reality of the small cute rodent propaganda that has been spread across our nation similar to the regime of fallacy that infiltrated by Hinduism...wait, I meant Arianism.

While you where being brain washed by scenes such as these . The reality of the situation is that these small creatures and thier compadres are out to ruin the world. Naturally inclined for evil, these little daemons are worse than terrorist. And I will not LET them destroy our world without a fight.

Going Green? Put it aside. Endorsing world peace? It can wait. Don't be fooled. The misrepresentation and impeding doom is looming, and only you can stop it.

Please view the following inspirational video. Go America.

Hold It, Don't Drop It. JLo.

Ok, Ok. I admit that sometimes...I only like her songs, because she sings them. But lately, she has really been missing the mark (like dart in the eyeball missing the mark). And I blame this on Marc Anthony, the great Hispanic singer...who is just that...great, in Hispanic culture. Not American.

But I like this little jammy jam.


laugh again.

Arab Barbie.



because it's funny. Haitian ipod.

those darn moving pictures.

Movies: The Golden Compass. I have to see this movie on the 7th of December. The premise is a little wild, and I totally understand why no one would want to see it with me, but as one of the first BIG books I read as a kid, I feel like I owe it to myself [my obligation] as a not so avid reader. It is only like once a year I can go to a movie adaptation and say pompously, "This is nothing like the book." Though, I do not remember that much of the book, except that there are talking animals for each human in the world. There's a compass. And magic. All good reasons to get up in the morning, if you ask me. And who in thier right mind doesn't want to see 2 polar bears go at it...whether it be cgi or real life. Oh, and Nicole Kidman is in it(which may turn some off, but always seems to float my boat-as long as she doesnt have freak show eyebrows.) Hitman. Which is a story about a Hitman. And, I mean...it doesn't really get any deeper than that. So...I have to see it. Ands then, I will also see I Am Legend starring the oh so charming Will Smith (the only black mainstream actor who hasn't played the role of a troubled cop), but only b/c my roommate wants to see it, and I have this dream that one day, when he says he will see a movie in the theater, the gods will ensure that he keeps his word. Word. But truthfully, it just looks like 28 Days Later, but in America...NY to be exact. I done seen No Country for Old Men and it is good. Definitely one of those movies that ends and then you discuss it for an hour or two. Cohen movies usually go down like that. Negatively speaking, the ending was a little weak...and by week I mean, out of nowhere...like they just ran out of ideas and where like, "Let's just end it here." And the plot or subplot is about a sociopath killer had me thinking throughout the entire movie.."THEY ARE JUST GIVING CRAZY PEOPLE IDEAS, they need to stop." It's like 2 hours of brain storming for muders. Mom wa sin town, so I saw, This Christmas,which was cute. I guess...it showcases all the new upcoming black movie, c-list stars. Chris Brown was in it, playing the youngest in the family AND a singer. Tough role for him...being 18 yrs old and a singer. best part of the movie, was at the very end, during the credits, and the whole family is dancing down thier own soul train line...but as thier real actor selves. So, everyone does age appropriate moves, and the love of my life, Lauren London (the attainable crush) goes down the line and Chris Brown yells "PROJECT" as she does her liitle bott poppin dance. I was dying.
The Tele: I Love NY is really spicing up. After a slow start, they have def purged the normals, and left the drama. Last weeks emergence of Chance, this week's NY definitions of what good means to her (great, outstanding,owosome, dreamy), and next week's meet the parents...I am more than excited. Still buggin that they called Pretty, gay for about 3 episodes straight on national TV, before kicking him out. Yikes! Nip Tuck, is finally warming up. And the ridiculousness begins. Kudos to the Mandingo swingers club reference in the past issue...I am joining that when I turn 30 (shhh, secret). Kid Nation is a tease. Nothing ever really happens on that show. And I think I found trans-show relatives.
Taylor from Kid Nation and Chantel fro America's Next Top Model. I see you...sisters and all. ANTM (acronym alert)...only in America could we kick off the retarded model (hence killing all hopes foe every little girl who is just a little different) and get away with it. Bye bye Heather. Project Runway. They used guy models this week, for a suit for a Tiki barber outfit they had to make. And did u guys see me on it? Well, you would've, but when they called me last year...I was like, "I dont do commercial stuff like that" and then I told my agent she was an idiot.
Ok, I think that's it. Ew, ew, ew, excpet did you hear about the Hogan family divorce, which Hulk Hogan learned about via the press? So, here's an fyi.....for those famous couples...take a hint...Jessica and Nick, Nivaro and Carmen, Kathy Griffin and her husband, Travis and whats her name. Reality TVin your home, is kinda a set-up for a divorce. I mean...Ozzy is the only one who made it through one of these things. But he is baked out of his brain.

Now...that's it.


some deep sh*t.

Which one of these is more important in a relationship?

That you are involved with someone:

who respects the way you think, your beliefs and the way your mind works?
who cherishes your heart...loves you unconditionally, faults and all?

I pick the first one. There is no room for the second one, if the first one is not understood....in any relationship you have. What do you think kids?


nectur of the gods.

Baltimore Club Music changes lives.

In the south...these songs kill the club. Consider yourself educated. Now touch the ground and shake yo cheeks. Unless ofcourse you a guy (unless you role like that).lol.

On Holiday.

That's British you know?

There is only one thing better than scoring tickets to a Micheal Jackson concert, and that is Ma Dukes coming to Chicago for the first time ever; in and of itself a cause for me to create a list of visit highlights. Think freeze frame, highlight pen and a bunch of circles and arrows.

1. Ma Dukes cooks a massive turkey day dinner. 15 lb turkey, ham, mash potatoes, delectable string beans, greens, candy yams, stuffing and sweet potato pies for dessert. She also stocks up the fridge with the not so necessary necessities (all the things i really want at the grocery store but can't justify buying, ex. Pirouette Cookies)
Circles: Ham, string beans, Whiskey Egg Nog
Arrows: My stomach slow lose of sexy shape, going up a belt notch, the metal ticker that is steadily going right on the weight scale....for the past 6 days

2. Ma Dukes De Boes old man from our tour seats. As the firsts ones on the bus for this long ass tour (10-3pm) of Chicago, we get stellar seats up in the front on the bus. First stop; the plant zoo, and on my way back I catch a glance of an old man sitting in our seat. Quiet helpless and feeble looking. Ma Dukes seeing him a minute later mutters "Oh, hell no" and before I am up in the bus (about 5 seconds) the oldman is slow limping his way to the back of the bus.
Circles: Front row Seats, 4 hours too long bus tour
Arrows: The split second blitz the decrepit old man was forced to perform as to avoid the true wrath of Ms. Williams. Smart play on his part.

3. Mom plays Wii tennis. Think...the passion and intensity if Rocky as he runs up the stairs to theme music meets, skill level and hand eye coordination of a infant cyclops with 20/80 vision. Still...a good time had by all. I also beat her in thumb wrestling. (This is what 23 yr old do with their parents...no?)
Circles: Wii, quiet possibly the funnest...or most fun of all the systems I have ever played
Arrows: My mom calling me "a cheater and a con artist", to my face after the first game. And me saying, "You are going down woman!"

All in all...perfect weekend. All of my roomates were out of town. Got to walk around naked and mark my territory. And now, it is back to the daily monotony of this boring life. I believe that if I were to create a show about my life, it would be called Hell Wrapped in Bubblewrap. And it would run for 2 seasons before being canceled. And it would be after Dancing with the Stars, but on TBS.

Quote of the Weekend:
"If one more person walks infront of me, I am going to trip them."- Mom...lol


commemorate that.

If you could commemorate one thing...what would it be?

Like, something so pure and unbridled, it changed your life by simply being.
Inspirational. A building block to who you are right now.

And you want to etch that sh*t in stone for the rest of the following generations.

I choose, the movie Mary Poppins.


Jimi. Is.


I really like these.

This campaign.

I really tried not to write another ad blog today. But I refuse to let my emotions not be heard. I think its the art direction that sold it to me. The TV spot is "eh, ok."

always remember....

I am the lead singer. Not you.
(featuring the roomates and that other kid...based on a real story)

the headlines read. i think.

Invest. In the search of the newest and most ridiculous invention from the country that has the time and energy to think up the silliest and most obscurest of things...some say we have hit our peak. The toaster over...because lord forbid we eat our toast fresh. "I must have it slightly toasted, the roof of my mouth is delicate." This quotation, is me btw. Sugar cubes...because the grains where way too much to handle (I think this is the Brits fault). Remotes, because....wait, remotes are genius. But anyway, check out the Cell Zone. When it is too noisy out and you can't hear your best friend tell you they are in H&M on the 4th floor, duh...duh,duuuuhhhh. Now there is a booth...ergonomic, I guess, to step into and make really really important business calls. Good Bless America.

Want to become a robot? (my child hood dream). Well, according to this lovely article, all you have to do is join the army. And then...maybe, in 50 years or so. You get to fight in one. It;s basically like an exoskeleton, that you step into. It lifts 100's of pounds...o' so simply. It's got crazy hooks for hands. And it is slightly "agile". My fav part is when the guy says..."You can even dance in it," and then they cut to the soldier doin his thing which gave me a flash back to all the MTV springbreak dance programs I watched in 6th grade, but with an added sense of impeding galactic doom.
PS This is still not as cool as if we could freeze people and have them wake up in a century and fight crime with Saundra Bullock.

The problem with PSAs. I know, I know...how could there really be a problem with PSAs. It is probably the single most positive form of advertising out there, and all the rest of it....the devils playground of unessecary consumption and mind control. Underage drinking is bad. Mothers Against drunk Driving...is good. NRDC...good (though Greenpeace is annoying as hell). But things like this, make me ponder the relevance and logistic of some PSAs out there.Or maybe its the fact that I just do not get cyber bullying. I would suggest its another too-much Oprah watching, not so go fad that they are turning into a revolutionary problem. A downward societal inferno....if not addresses and advertised about.

For example...there is always a drug of the season. Last year it was weed. Watch out! You could hit a kid after you satisfy you munchies. Then it was oxy cotton. Now its meth...which will take your parents away from you. And while no one is disputing the horror that are these drugs and their effects...they are shallow as all hell, media inspired and worst of all...lack luster. They're not even to the quality level of The Brain On Drugs ads, and that was done in the 80s. And I guess what set me off to talk about this, is the new trend of focus on cyber bullying. I mean, did she say her breath smelt like hot trash? I mean...online bullying. How do they get your lunch money. Where are the physical threats? And I guess it's all in the logistics, but how is bullying truly bullying, if there is no physical threat. What ads like these are portraying...is gossip. And there is no real call to action. Except, "don't ignore" and "don't laugh at it." Stupid. Let's all jump on the don't really understand but make ads about it band wagon. There are better messages to be said, and quiet frankly...better ways to say them.
On a completely different note.....this is genius. Damn you Japanese toys. You are giving our children the clap.

Go America!

And I will end on this. Mr. T plays World of Warcrafts. And apparently, so does William Shatner. So....either you both are really hurting for a pay check or you BOTH are complete losers.



and then.

Elmo is killin it. And I hypothesized before seeing the actual end that Oscar was Caucasian and the Cookie Monster was hispanic. I swear.



I judge you. Because I can and because you are all over the tv showing all your goods. And my conclusion....the new Victoria Secret girl (Miranda Kerr) is NO Adrianna Lima. She is doing the same type of commercials that lima I guess was doing, a silly accent (and we all know how I feel about accents) just like Lima...so that when they talk you are not only just provoked by boobage to not listen to a damn thing they are saying, but forced just to allow some mercy upon your ears....but something is off about this new girl. I'm NOT saying she is a booga bear or anything (mom reference), she is pretty. But she is no Adrianna Lima.

Judge for yourself.


This is clearly, a pivotal and life changing debate. Take it seriously. I am thinking about writing Victoria...or Victor. I think they should put the new girl back in storage and bring back the classic.

I will leave you with this final thought or artistic piece, just to help you nail it down. Hiedi Klum has finally hit her breaking point.

Quick question. Do you have to have ginormous breast to be a victoria secret model?


Luv the Asians.


indian day.

As I sat round yesterday, snapping the ends off of string beans and judging Chicago's turkey day parade in comparison with New York's Macy's day parade (Chicago lost).....I thought to myself..."this is nice."

It's nice that we take time out of our daily schedule to be thankful. You know...thankful that we are Americans. Thankful the we commit turkey genocide every Thanksgiving in the name of tradition. Thankful that we stole this land from its original indigenous people and then managed not only to create a staggering cultural divide, but but also reinforce it on a daily basis.

The thing that I am most thankful for however, is that we celebrate this day with gigantic Scooby Doo's.

Oh Yeah, and I am thankful for friends and family.

Merry Turkey Day...to you, my reader.


What What, In the Butt.

Check those fly dance moves......lol



PS Momma Williams is IN the house. Literally. BAM!

Quote of the Week (amongst other memorable quotations):

"The only thing worse than a hobo, is a hobo underground."



It's kind of a problem now. This hair situation. It just does whatever it feels like. It is just long enough to try and rebel, yet...it isn't long enough, for any real ratical movment.

I mean, for example, yesterday it slapped my boss's newborn baby in the face (pretty gangster). And the little red thing, did kinda ask for it. Last night my mom called me, while I was taking a nap. Regular protocol calls for an ignored/missed call until I am truly awake to deal with the "antics." But no... my hair answeres the phone for me and shoves it in my face. Just this morning, I was on a packed train receiving uncomfortable glances from the local regulars...as they have come to accept me upon their daily commuted, but when my hair started throwing bo's and listening to his headphones too loud....they plain and simply, could not handle. It's pure inconsideration at the very least. Who let all that ethnicity on the train anyway?
Yet, there are times that make it all seem worth it. When a long lost friend muffles her mouth only to scream "You are growing your hair out...crazy"...and then adds without even a beckoning, "I like it." And my heart breathes a sigh of relief.

Whatever would I do if you did not?