My anthropomorphic mop is in love with my Thomas Kinkade statuette

You know those Swiffer ads with the anthropomorphic brooms? That are, like, in love with the housewife? And are kind of borderline creepy because they're stalking her a little? Like this one?


You see her just standing there when he's at the door? She's all "I can't hear you!" Bitch.

This one might even be a little creepier:



Swiffer's on Chatroulette! At least the mop isn't jacking off. Ew.

[SIDE NOTE: Like everyone else with a pulse and an Internet connection, I checked out ChatRoulette. I didn't see even one naked person. What am I doing wrong?]

These ads had kind of the opposite of the desired effect on The Wife (at least, the opposite of what I assume is the desired effect) because she full on felt totally sorry for the broom or the mop or whatever cleaning implement had gotten dumped. So much so that I think she was nursing kind of a secret grudge against Swiffer.

Well, I bet a lot of people felt the same way and the collective discomfort at the plight of the broom and mop trickled up to Swiffer, because the new ads are sort of conciliatory or something! Unfortunately, there doesn't seem to be a video of them online, but the basic idea is that the Swiffer has found new love with another household object, thus satisfying the possibly competing needs of the hausfrau for Improved Cleaning Technology and the Anthropomorphic Mop for a nonorganic love interest. And then I grew up and started caring about real things.

Chuck Nevius and the Case of the Manufactured Outrage

Oh, Chuck Nevius:

Last week, East Bay resident Bruce Marks took his wife to dinner in North Beach. What he failed to notice was that after a certain hour parking was restricted. When he came back after dinner, the car was gone. In all, it cost Marks $375 to redeem his car and another $75 for the ticket. Think he'll be back to the city to eat any time soon?

I know what you want from us, Chuck. You want us to be all "San Francisco is so unfriendly! You can't even eat dinner in this town without getting your car towed!" That's a good, simple, knee-jerk reaction that appeals on a primitive level but doesn't really work here.

I feel for East Bay resident Bruce Marks but when I park in SF, or anywhere really, I pause a moment to take a look at the signs that say whether or not you can park there, especially in a high-density neighborhood like North Beach. What do you suggest we do, Chuck? Eliminate parking restrictions in North Beach? That should work out well. Or maybe have a special suburbanite tag that East Bay residents can get so they can park at will when they come to SF?

Wanna avoid getting your car towed? Read the parking signs. Seriously, it's not rocket science.

Random thoughts on that movie award thing they had last night

- Quentin, man, wait until after the show. That cocaine's not going to get stale in 3 hours.

- I previously wrote about "The Hurt Locker" and how I think it's kind of overrated, but THANK GOD that won and not "Avatar." I know it's cool to hate on "Avatar" now and I'm not trying to jump on any bandwagon or anything, but man was that a bad movie. The 3-D was cool enough, I guess, but all those people who say it was like watching someone else play a Wii game for 2 1/2 hours are right on. Any movie that has the line "You're not in Kansas anymore" should be automatically disqualified.

- What the fuck was Sean Penn going on about? "I never became an official member of the Academy, but the Academy and I do have in common that we neglected to acknowledge the same actress in our own ways two years running. So I'm going to start fresh with the Academy and acknowledge these wonderful actresses." OK then!

- Those fucking speeches before the Best Actor and Best Actress awards: kill me now.

- "At Vanity Fair's bash at West Hollywood's Sunset Tower Hotel, a string of celebrities, including Lenny Kravitz and Jon Voight, sought out [snowboarder Shaun] White." Sometimes "celebrities" should be in quotes.

- This is the funniest thing I read all night, after (I think) the winner for cinematography said his parents came from Italy "with four suitcases and a dream":

Molls, you crack me up.

What your celebrity crush says about you

If you like: Megan Fox

You think of yourself as: Edgy, maybe a little dangerous

But really you're: A slightly overweight guy who watches NASCAR and owns a copy of "Blades of Glory"

Something you know that I don't: The name of any mixed martial arts fighter

If you like: Robert Pattinson

You think of yourself as: A willowy, mysterious creature, not meant for this world

But really you're: A damaged girl with a LiveJournal

Something you know that I don't: Whether you can cut open your arm with a piece of a broken Tegan & Sara CD jewel case

If you like: Hayden Panettiere

You think of yourself as: A normal guy

But really you're: A friend of PedoBear

Something you know that I don't: Ke$ha lyrics


If you like: Benicio del Toro

You think of yourself as: Quirky, artsy, out of the mainstream

But really you're: Weird

Something you know that I don't: How much of a cut Etsy takes on stuff you sell

If you like: Tara Reid

You think of yourself as: A washed-up alcoholic

But really you're: A washed-up alcoholic

Something you know that I don't: What I did last Friday night

The Bachelor finale: On the Wings of Retarded

Today, I've heard from 3 different and unconnected sources that Jake is probably gay. That explains why our final 2 choices are a manface and giggly faux-virgin.

ANYWAY, here we are FINALLY at the end of this Amazing Journey and we have Tenley and Vienna, which sound like colors of clothing in the Anthropologie catalog but which are actually people. We're all on Saint Lucia which looks like a cross between The Future and the island from Lost. Jake's family is here. They're about exciting as him and they cry a lot, except for Mom, who has some very particular questions about whether the girls get along with their other girl friends. This makes me think there may be an estranged Pavelka who didn't get invited to St. L.

(SIDE NOTE At first I thought all the peeps in the vacay cottage were Jakes' relatives and was marvelling at the depth and breadth of the Pavelka family, but my associate then informed me that 2 of the chicks were the brothers' wives. I liked the one with the rag mop haircut and faux-kindercore dress. I bet she likes the Decemberists a lot.)

So Tenley comes around first and everyone just fucking loves her. JUST FUCKING LOVES HER. Dad bursts into tears, of course, and Mom only has a slight facial tic when she mentions her previous marriage. Tenley is pretty much the perfect chick to bring home to Mom and Dad because she's unfailingly nice and pleasant and all that Xanax did the trick! She shows how goofy she can get by jumping in the pool with her clothes on. Oh, Tenley! First this, next crushing up Oxycontin and snorting it.

(The Wife, on the pool scene: "What a surprise, Captain Abs is naked again.")

Vienna shows up the next day and everyone hates her! Why would that be? Because Jake told them all she was a conniving bitch who wrote hate notes to all the girls in the house? Probably! Anyway, it's all very awkward at first. But then, through the magic of TV, things change and Vienna gets a chance to show her real side and the Sisters in Law are forced to tearfully admit that she's not so bad and she'd be a fine Pavelka which isn't even remotely true. She's very, very bad and will end up getting hammered at Thanksgiving and yelling "None of you ever cared about me!" and storming out. That's just a theory. I wouldn't know about anything like that.

Time for the big proposal. First there are lots of shots of Jake staring REAL HARD into middle distance and walking around with his tie untied. OK, here they come. Tenley gets there first and Jake goes blah blah blah I don't know Tenley. She cries a lot. They trundle her back to the ROFLcopter and she gets taken back to Pleasantville or wherever she's from. You know what? Tenley needs to date a Laker. Just do something to loosen up.

OK, here comes Stupid Fetal Alcohol Face. Jake's trying to propose but she won't fucking shut up!!! What the fuck is wrong with you? OK, there he goes. Yeah, of course she says yes. They're never going to get married.

Ali's the next Bachelorette. I will recap the shit out of that show, believe you me.

Why I want to work at American Apparel

I get a lot of hits on this blog from people Googling “Why I want to work at American Apparel,” because one time I posted a thing about working at American Apparel. I assume that American Apparel has some question on their application asking the Prospective Applicant why he or she wants to work there. It is kind of desperately sad that people have to Google that shit to come up with an answer.

So in the interest of helping all you kids out there who wish I would just stop with the editorializing and get to the good part, here’s an answer you can just copy ‘n paste:

Why I Want to Work at American Apparel

By your name here

Nietzsche once said, “Admiration for a quality or an art can be so strong that it deters us from striving to possess it.” This may be true in some circumstances, but my admiration for American Apparel is so strong that I want to strive not only to possess it, but also to help others to do the same. Given that our time on Earth is both fleeting and precious, we behoove ourselves to spend the time until we shuffle off this mortal coil being fashionable, nay, creating fashion, be it with a Cotton Wide Stripe Jersey Cardigan or a Nylon Spandex Stretch Lace Diamond Grid Bodysuit. Rage, rage against the dying of the light in a Stretch Twill High-Waist Side Zipper Short! We are only as good as our Flex Fleece Zip Hoodies.

Yes, death awaits us all. But when the inevitable occurs and I am summoned home by my Lord, I have but one wish: that those who knew me should honor my name and say “Your name here lived his life. He shone like a star. He did not just work – he worked at American Apparel.”

Guys talk archive

Oh, hey. Guys hate it when you talk about your ex all the time and when you TEXT IN THE MIDDLE OF DINNER. I didn't pay $22 for those scallops to sit there and be seared and watch you play on your fucking phone. No, guys and girls cannot be "just friends." The best yearbook message ever was "U R Cute" from Cindy C. in 4th grade. The hottest after-school activity you can do is I don't know, what kind of weird fucking question is that? Since when are after-school activities "hot"? That is some Chris Hansen shit right there.

My biggest turnoff is bad spelling and grammar.