comment shortage / guest commentator aw rootbeer

we'll have another home page xtravanganza pending one more comment (ts's comment is null in void in 49 states, sorry, tennessee), but in the meantime reviews are updated and if that isn't enough to win more love we don't know what is. until our comment count rises higher and we can post our latest channel 13/ datexedge-style expose hosted by sb, ts, aw rootbeer and roz abhrams, we present this guest essay by aw rootbeer. enjoy. -sb/ts

missy elliot vs. lauren graham
What I did during the June Month of my summer vacation:

So my parents are like, totally, back together again and you know what that means—master suite is in lockdown and I get shipped off to Uncle Leo & Aunt Sherry (they’re not even related!) for two weeks in the O.C. I’m only going to tell you one thing about the actual trip cause as Mrs. Applegate says to Andy Wildebrand and his 25 page book reports “Ackins! Give us the meat, skip the stuffing!” (the O.C. is so not like The O.C.) I spent the whole first week in my bed- even on my birthday. I came down with a bad case of M.E.P.D. (Missy Elliot Plane Disease). That’s right, I sat next to The Miss on my Very American Airlines flight from Newark to LAX. In coach—the last row of the plane. Now, I don’t want to say anything mean about anyone cause I hate it when people say mean things about me (Courtney!), but I was in a perfect state of health when I boarded the aircraft, and in total need of a Dimetapp mainline by the time I got off, and I was completely surrounded by UPN’s own The Road To Stardom with Missy Elliot’s Missy Elliot and her entourage of 6 + lil’ dog. just sayin’.
Here’s a handy diagram of the sitch where x is anonymous frequent flyer, p is for posse, m is for missy, and 1 is for me all dxe style:
x x x x x x
x x x x x x
x p p p p x
x x p P x x
x _ 1 _ _ m

I didn’t talk to Missy, in her Addidas-totalis style. Missy wouldn’t talk to anyone except the capital P in the row in front of her. P is her slave. Whenever she wanted something- anything—she would reach forward and tap him over the chair. He would turn around in his seat and get bossed. Then he would reach up and hit the flight crew light. A crew member would appear, he would order. The crew member would come back with the cranberry juice cocktail (3x) and snack box and ask for the 5 bucks (American!). P would turn around for the money, and Missy would say she didn’t know where her wallet was. P would get out his own wallet and pay. Then he’d pass the snax over the chair to her. Ten minutes later Missy threw a 20 dollar bill over the chair onto P’s tray table.
In summary: P’s neighbor x seemed thrilled, I had something more interesting to watch than Hitch, and got to spend my 12th birthday in bed breathing through my mouth!

—DELICIOUS CARBS—

When I arrived at gate 46A at LAX to find my flight home was delayed an hour and a half the first thing I did was take a lemon-lime Airborne Formula tablet. The second thing I did was call home to make sure mom would get all of today’s nakid sexin’ done in time to pick me up in six hours. The third thing I did was totally freak out! Lauren Graham is standing no less than 10 feet away from me. Lorelai Gilmore!!! After a quick call to sb for courage I walked over and interrupted her sidekick session.



1. she is so nice.
2. she is so pretty.
3. she received no less than 5 dxe.com stickers
4. she sat in first class where she belongs
5. she was by herself and even carried her own bags
6. she shows crack just like us, with pride!



So, in conclusion, in the who-is-the-better-celebrity-to-be-on-a-plane-with-battle that was my first month of summer vacation, Lauren Graham totes wins. Granted we shared public personal space for only a few moments, but I swear ever since then my hair and nails seem thicker, it’s been pizza every night, and my sinuses have re-opened.

gilmore dudes eff toss bracket showdown - FINAL ROUND

ts and i have decided that we are so f'n precious that we simply won't get it up content-wise for anything less than 4 comments. that said, it is now time to settle the score. let us know yr reading these insane brains tirades, we need the positive reinforcement that we're good enuff, smart enuff, and that people like us, all jack handy style.


judges:
sb again again, who is taking this way too seriously.

ts again again, who probably pecked her answers into her sidekick while getting her back waxed.

ROUND 3:

gg expert (sb): yes jess is gonna win but this is actually kind of hard for me because as much as jess is more "my demo" (alt alt fashions, born in the '70s, a dipshit), luke is the kind of guy i actually hope to find when i pull up a stool in my local nh diner (when i am in nh and in the weird town 20 minutes away, not my own town which doesn't really have a diner, just a "family restaurant" where retarded people are always sitting in the booth by the window and there's a tcby machine) instead of being greeted by a fat lady who gets pissed when i order a diet coke and spaghetti-os from the kids menu. don't get me wrong, i am too old/grizzled to find antagonistic dudes to be anything but lame, but that luke has gnarl opinions and will also lend you the $20k it takes to fix your weirdly laid-out house's foundation AND can probably lift heavy things wins him major points, even tho he bought a reggae cd on purpose and probably watches baseball on tv. jess' opinions are all kinda rebel-y tm and he'd sooner steal from you than lend you the change for microwaved spaghetti-os in a shithole diner in western nh but this is a battle for who i'ma eff, not who i'ma stand next to whilst he steps on a glass, so jess still gets the gold.
gg non-expert (ts): HOLY CRAP! i just loved veg city diner. we used to go there, me suz and sb - and some of the other stay at home mom core team - and spend bucket loads of dough on high calorie vegan junk food over a steady diet of gossip, collective self-deprecation, and shit talk courtesy of me, per usual, re: my sisters meanjeans micro-bf and how I have no money due to an ever-increasing online purchasing addiction. (curse you, shopintuition.com.) the only thing that ever made me kindof hate VCD was that the vegan treats.com cakes and pies and whoopie pies were like 12 dollars a slice or whatever. (editors note: just loving the word whoopie.) now, if Luke worked at veg city diner during its punk rock cafeteria hayday, before it got closed down for all those blech-ass health code violations, like rats in the walk-in fridge and such; i would totes considerate throwing him the power eff, hair cloud or not, because that would mean EMPLOYEE DISCOUNTS all around, and i am not below selling myself. (viva lower-cost oversnacking.) but since he doesn't work at veg city except for in the pretend snack village fantasia in my head, he can throw the eff to himself, or like, a my-big-fat-greek-wedding era nia vardalos or rhoda dupree (a d-grade hollywood actress who is cousins with roseanna arquette or antonio banderas or something who does not even exist.) that said, as was always always said, into eff toss bracket perpetuity and beyond, i would bun jess in a firey hot oven anytime rather than my non-existent version of luke who could help me eat even more nasty, hi-cal foodstuffs than i already do.

winner: jess' sayin.


gg expert (sb): again, not as easy as you would think as in my whole career as a sex maker i have never kicked it to one of my own people, and even if it would mean having to talk to my parents about a naked moment, i think they'd be very proud of me if i told them i'd experienced the ultimate intimacy with a tribe member, even if he's not a doctor and he's not ever gonna come over for a nice chicken dinner any time soon. i guess that's not really important since, for our purposes, max is italian, and while i've never done it with a pizan, teeter has, and her ex is such a misogynistic wrong islander guido motherfucker that if i could kick him, stab him, pour grape juice on his white pants AND set his gelled hair on fire all at the same time without hurting myself or going to jail, i'd be doing it right now instead of typing this treatise. jess, while an italian in real life, is ethnically blank in the gilmore world-- his mom is irish *maybe* and his dad is just a darkhaired regionally-ambiguous thug. teeter's ex wishes he was a thug but it's hard to buy that shit from a guy who has to pick his gf up from her job at the mall, has a good cry after screwing whores, and probably likes dudes. it's like good charlotte and their relationship with dms-- what's next, hells angels popping up in videos with avril lavigne? but i digress. long story short, max isn't technically a jew and jess isn't technically italian and teeter's ex technically sucks so that settles that.
gg non-expert (ts): I could never date a dude who is SB's people because ultimately their moms or grandmas our their in-the-closet estranged half sisters who don't exist would shun my lowd ass because i am not one of the chosen and dont know what borscht or spetzle is, EVEN THO my dad says that generations back, our ancestors most likely americanized/catholicized our last name in order to avoid a future of needless persecution, and my nose is totes kind of jew steez iniwaze, or so i have been repeatedly told, by people ugly and otherwise. that said, and all jewnotjew speak aside, i love sb so bayad and she loves me so bayad and that, when coupled with our plutonic gaynotgayness, and double coupled with my hella broken dude picker, explains why she INSTA-HATES on any manboy i ever show make out or life building interestest in, with the swift exception of my spacey toofed shining star skateboard ex-boyfriend greg goulet, cause he was raised in boise, idaho on a sugarbeet farm and doesnt have a lame bone in his whole entire mini-body. (he skateboards to the post office wearing buddy holly glasses and a shower cap. IN LUV, i tell you.) and why, retrospectively, her mad hatred of said sub-par dude partners has resulted in multiple dramatic daytime soap opera style brake ups between she and i. since she already has a sizable sense of hated for that max dude or something or that paladino guy or whatever/whoever up in that above paragraph, (i cannot even keep pace with the wellspring of hatred,)i will refrain from choosing max, but instead opt to pipe (SHOCKING!) WH Jess (white hottt jess) so that i can still have a commitment ceremony with SB in massachusetts or hawaii where our cat mr. whiskers will be the ringbearer and where the indigo girls song "romeo and juliet" or "closer i am to fine" will be our official ceremony song and where there will be a love montage style beater digital video on loop at our reception in the leisure world main ballroom . its tuff, but i must accept that if i ever have a boyfriend/partner in piping that means no more delicious delicious fair game on garden burger riblets or free internet surfing capabilities or made-to-fit thrift gifts, courtesy of my heterosexual life partner. simply not a life not worth living. so, YES JESS, LETS MAKE A SWEATY MESS (cepta that you look SO not yr aesthetically near perfect self in that below pic, that i just heaved in my handbag - NO DISRESPEK!)

AND THE WINNER IN THE FINAL ROUND, ROUND M, M STANDING FOR MAN ALIVE IS HE A HANDSOME ASS MAN...it's jess but whatever we've known that for 10 weeks.



ADDENDUM:
gg expert (sb): girlfriend is in quotes because jess is not a real person but the picture above actually happened in reality and not a parallel universe (where we have a timeshare).
gg non-expert (ts): we are sure rory/insert her real name here is a lovely (adorable!) person and whatever dress she prefers worx fer us. after all, shes the fameous one. we're jus' ever so board. in summing up, in reality this bracket toss dose not exist.

NEXT TIME: eh, we're not so sure. 5 comments and we'll think about it (and teet's comment is void so somebody else say something dammit so we can take another month to update this fucker).