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raging out at... my top 10

Today is a special day when so many things have created a swelling rage within me that I can not stick to one topic. I must instead introduce my first annual (or however frequently, or infrequently, I feel like doing it) Top 10 Rage list.

In no particular order...

10) My Roommate's Piece of Trash DVD Player
I will readily admit that I am absolutely the kind of girl that reads the novel before the movie comes out so I can snidely look like a pompous ass walking out of the theater saying, "can you even believe they left out the 3rd word in the 4th paragraph on page 26? The whole movie couldn't have possibly made any sense to anyone who didn't read the book." Now this attitude (and it is a stretch, but bear with me) is why I'm pissed off at the DVD player. Dexter, from what I hear, is this brilliant amazing show that I haven't seen. I've had the DVDs laying around and I, of course, have not yet unwrapped them and bothered to watch the show. Of course all it takes is for me to hear that it's coming to CBS and I immediately raced to watch. How could I bitch and moan about how much better the cable version is if I had not seen it? So clearly to keep my grandiose sense of entitlement, I attempt to watch the DVDs today and the DVD player tells me the disc is incompatible. Living with my roommate for a year, I have yet to put a disc in there that does actually work. So now I'm watching dexter on my laptop while the stupid DVD player screen mocks me in the background. I will be going out in the morning to purchase a cinnamon raisin bagel to see if that might be compatible for it. Or at least cross my fingers that DVD players are capable of being choked.

9) Lying Contact Lens Manufacturers
Yes, I know I shouldn't sleep in my contact lenses. And yes, I do it anyway. Almost every night. But I did have the good sense to order the extra oxygen, let-your-eyes-breathe contacts which are supposed to be "okay" to sleep in. Are they? No, they are not. Can I find my glasses? Nope, I certainly cannot. Am I going blind and might this blog be the last thing I ever see? Well now there's one question that gets a yes. Don't offer me extra fake oxygen. It's rude.

8) Javier Bardem
I legitimately can't sleep most nights or go into a convenience store to buy cigarettes anymore as I spend the entire time in a panic waiting for Javier Bardem to come in and airwhip me to death. I'm scared enough of the eye doctor's airpuff. If I ever see Javier Bardem anywhere near me, I will drop dead of a heart attack long before he can get near me with that deadly canister. Frick, now I'm thinking about him again. My roommate will be mad if she comes home and once again can't get in the door because I've created my traditional Bardem Barricade.

7) Lost
Okay (and I'm sure Orion is going to correct me... which reminds me, stay tuned next week for a special orion/stars west coast edition), but Lost is quite possibly the best show of its genre on network television. I would maybe allow Pushing Daisies in a ring against Lost, but any show where the lead actor is a pie-maker is somewhat genre-less. (I will categorize TV based on bakery treats as often as I want and based on the one time I have ever done this [just now], it has proven to be a remarkably efficient and precise classification method.)
But here is my big problem with Lost. And no, it is not how they always quickly and thoroughly answer all my questions within minutes of them being posed, or how it isn't frustrating at all that they do something absurd and never again approach the topic. Actually I've changed my mind. Those are my big problems with Lost. But even more pressing and tragic than that problem is that the costume designer keeps putting a shirt on Sawyer. I believe it's a Biblical reference - that you do not hide your light under a barrel - so the costume designers are pretty much telling God to shove it by shirting the ever majestic Sawyer. That's just not cool.

6) My Supermarket Discount Card
The supermarket discount cards belong to a conglomerate that is also home to such things as socks in the dryer and every Bic lighter I've ever owned. They are objects which are fleeting in my life. They come and bring me joy for a short time and then are just as quickly lost, though not forgotten. There was a period of perhaps 6 or 7 trips in a row to Ralph's when I signed up for a new card because the old one was in the Great Abyss. And my phone number also magically never works.
So I finally have given up and have picked up the habit of punching in my old gentleman friend's phone number. (At least "Pinehog" is good for something). So thanks for the discount, "Pinehog," and you can send me a small gourmet cheese platter for all the points I've wracked up for you in the Ralph's Wine Club. (Come on, who thought I was shopping for a well balanced meal?)

5) Brittny Gastineau
That girl can suck whichever of my butt cheeks is her preferred. A few nights ago, I was walking into a bathroom stall at some Grammy party (God, living in LA is awful) and Brittny Gastineau literally enters the stall with me and yells "Is Paris in here?" Now I've had about a gigaloot of champagne (and yes I did make up that word but it truly is how much champagne I had) and have no idea who this chick is and even if I did, we certainly aren't cool like that for her to join me in a tiny bathroom stall. So the remainder of the conversation goes something like this:

Stars: I have no idea who Paris is.
Brittny: You've got to be fucking kidding me. Where is Paris?
Stars: I'm not sure if you're aware of how tiny this stall is, but the chance of Paris being in here is pretty marginal.
Brittny: You fucking bitch. Tell her I need her.

Okay, what? I'm making it a life rule that D-list celebrities are never welcome in any bathroom stall I'm in. Ever. I have to debate where A-, B-, and C-listers fall on my stall privilege rule. I will get back to you.

4) T-Mobile Sidekicks
I don't have to justify this to anyone who has ever owned a shitkick. Mine is basically being held together by dental floss and a prayer right now. It never works and yet I remain just immature enough to not want to switch to a BlackBerry.

3) My Landlord
My lease is up in less than a month and par for my course, I'm moving, so they're renting out the apartment. With zero forewarning, my landlord barges in with 2 girls to check out the apartment. I was actually head half down in a beer on one couch with a half naked singer/songwriter on the other couch, his head in some Tostitos. We did not need witnesses to that hungover moment. Nor can I imagine it's great for his career to have a spotting of that nature.

2) Tylenol P.M.
I'm a notorious insomniac and I used to be able to trust in my old friends Simply Sleep or Tylenol P.M. in a pinch. Apparently those things are now as effective as a Flintstones gummy vitamin. It's laughable - the non-existent purpose they serve. I don't even get drowsy. I think it may actually have the adverse effect. The next time I go to run one of my half marathons I'm going to pop a Tylenol P.M. I will be sure to finish in record time.

And the top of the Rageout List, the gold medal of suckage prize goes to...

Of course I followed the presidential primaries, obsessively checking each number as they came in. And I was delighted with the turnout and pretty much rooting CNN on as their winner projections were coming in quicker than any of the other news channels. But when you click for the more detailed state-by-state delegate breakdown, it informs you in big purple letters which of the candidates no longer have a snowman's chance in hell of winning. Obviously there's quite a few down-and-out candidates who are basically being mocked in lavender by for having no votes. But somehow Mike Gravel, winner of maybe not even his own vote, has a big fat zero next to his name, but has escaped the Lilac Mockery. I will be creating "congrats on the goose egg, Gravel" in an array of purple hues to show I think he showed as terrible of a showing as all the other candidates... sans, of course, my beloved Hillary.



  1. I will NEVER offer you fake oxygen again.

    Also, you left out another super major reason why Brittny Gastineau blows so hard. But a fucking E in your name. I guess that's Lisa Gastineau's fault. Lsa?

  2. A few years ago, I had the unfortunate experience of entertaining some out-of-town friends. They were coming into town and I was hosting them, but they had already made plans to meet up with some other friends that were in town, for dinner. One of their friends was a guy that I had gone to college with (wasn't friends with him; didn't really know him, but knew who he was). I'll leave the story of his vapid douchebaggery for another time. Needless to say, his only redeeming quality seems to be that he had the good fortune of being born after his older brother, who is one of the country's 10th wealthiest people (and, from what I hear, an extremely nice guy). Anyway, my fellow alumnus had a date with him. Actually, it was his girlfriend.
    Although she was, at first glance, attractive, she became increasingly unattractive as the night progressed. She really didn't open her mouth much (not sure she was actually able to construct a fluid sentence), but when she DID open her mouth, all that came out was some whiney, bitchy, superficial horse-shit.
    She is an embarassment to the "privileged, dim-witted, superficial, nasty, unintelligent, party-girl heiress" clique. I can't imagine why Paris would even be interested in speaking to her. She is a discredit to that entire group of Ne'er-do-wells.

    Oh yeah. . . in case you haven't figured it out yet - - the chick at the dinner was Brittny G (and the dinner was about 2 weeks before the premeire of her reality show).

    That's about 3 hours of my life I'll never get back!

  3. I LOVE everything about that story. Every single thing.

  4. Incidentally, the guy who was her "boyfriend" on the show... who, I am pretty sure, is not your friend, ML, is a guy I met in Puerto Rico one year and spent the duration of my time with. And whose best friend ended up legitimately dating my best friend.

    Why does Brittny Gastineau touch the lives of everyone?

  5. 6 degrees of terrible. Why can't we all be touched by Ryan Gosling? Or at least just me

  6. I'm not sure who Ryan Gosling is, but I actually think he DID "touch" me, once. Does that make me gay?

    Moon, I believe the douchebag b/f DID appear on a few episodes of the show, but I'd doubt it was the same ex that you hung out with. Seriously . . .if you hung out with this douchebag for an entire vacation (and, yes, I realize that rules of association are greatly relaxed out of the country), you and I need to cease being friends.

    No, . . .seriously, . . .who is Ryan Gosling?

  7. the Musical Lawyer with very fast typing fingersFebruary 13, 2008 at 7:30 PM

    Ya know what?
    I now kinda feel bad for allowing Brit (I can call her that; 'cause we're cool like that) to totally hijack this 10-subject blog. SO, I'm gonna QUICKLY respond to the other 9 points, in the interest of "equal time". Ready?


    10- You forfeit the right to bitch about the DVD player if it's not yours. If your roomie has a piece of shit, either deal with it or buy your own!

    9- Don't sleep in your lenses (don't waste my time! NEXT)

    8-Don't go see scary movies (NEXT)

    7-Lost is not written by Aaron Sorkin or Bill Maher and is therefore crap. NEXT!

    6-Why can't women ever keep shit in their wallets? We guys carry everything we need, at all times. And we don't carry those ridiculous pocketbooks that you guys do. My suggestion: put the discount card in your wallet and carry your wallet with you to the supermarket. Otherwise, I can come staple it to your ass, which you will always have with you at the supermarket. NEXT

    5-Yes, we know. Brit is annoying little twit. NEXT!!!!

    4- Unless you're running for prom queen, you should not be carrying a Sidekick. If you can legally purchase alcohol at a bar, you should not be carrying a Sidekick. If you were alive during the first George Bush's Presidency, you should not be carrying a Sidekick. If you have a job that does not involve shaking your ass on a pole OR wearing a paper hat, you should not be using a Sidekick? Any Questions? NEXT!

    3-If you live in a rundown apartment that you SHARE with someone else and you're bangin' a rock star, you should be having sex on satin sheets at his place. Also, don't kid yourself if you're remotely good-looking (and we've never met, so I don't know), it couldn't POSSIBLY hurt his career that he was "spotted" bangin' you. NEXT

    2-Ambien is my rock. I shall not want. It maketh me lie down in green pastures . . . .etc.

    1-I'm not sure I really get the CNN complaint, but as long as you're supporting Hillary, you're cool with me!

    (note: these comments were posted, in marathon fashion, in under 4 minutes. I'm not sure if it reads that way, but it should)

  8. Ok musical are my 10 rebuttals to your rapid-fire complaints.

    10) I do, in fact, have my own. My roommate, however, is beyond a control freak and would have a nuclear meltdown if I attempted to switch out any of her belongings. Even all my dishware got relegated to its own cabinet as it wasn't permitted to be in the same cabinet as hers. Put a working one in the room if you insist on it being yours.

    9) the lenses were specifically "crafted" that way for people who want to sleep in them. Their issue, not mine.

    8) no country was not billed as a horror movie and therefore caught me off guard. And I'm not afraid of any other movie villain.

    7) lost rules. And by the transitive property of your statement, I suppose we can assume all tv shows and even film prior to the works of sorkin and maher were trash. I'm shocked people still watch works like casablanca and gone with the wind when bill maher doesn't even make a cameo!

    6) The card does always go back in my wallet where it disappears. And if men can carry everything they need, why is it that I have yet to have a boyfriend or even a male friend who hasn't on more than one occasion asked me to throw something in my purse? All men are guilty of that so your pants pockets aren't holding enough. Furthermore, the size and contents of my bag have NOTHING to do with the fact that the card is NOT in there. Whether I had one other thing in there or 50 thousand, end result is the same.

    5) Done with Brittny.

    4) I was unaware you were the authority on maturity. I certainly hope you never drink things like apple juice or throw around a ball as those things are targeted at even younger demographic than the sidekick and therefore it might be time for you to get out of diapers, hon.

    3) the fact that you assumed the apartment is run down shows that you are pompous. The fact that you assumed I was sleeping with said rockstar says you are judgemental. The fact that you assumed we were ASLEEP shows you hear what you want to hear as I said none of those things. But this, I suppose, is what is to be expected of someone who managed to display at least 9 points of disturbing and I'm not sure remotely warranted superiority in under 4 minutes.

    2) forgive me if due to recent news events, I'm not willing to pump unnecessary pharmaceuticals in my body. And for the record, in the past, ambien and lunesta have left me with a fierce hangover.

    1) hmm.. This may be the only thing you got right.

    Oh and in under 3 minutes...

  9. The (somewhat repentant, but not really) Musical LawyerFebruary 13, 2008 at 8:47 PM

    Ok, now we're weeding down the real issues.

    SO, in no particular order:

    1. "Gone With the Wind" IS garbage. "Casablanca" IS the second best film ever made (despite its obvious lack of Maher). The greatest film of all time, "To Kill a Mockingbird" likewise lacks Maher. I don't know how you made the leap from my criticism of today's crappy t.v. programming to an indictment of all media. I did not state or imply that all MOVIES must have either Maher or Sorkin's involvement or blessing. Rather, I simply suggested that t.v. ought to.

    2. If your boyfriends constantly have stuff for you to put in your bag, you need to date guys who are far less "high maintenance". The ONLY thing I can ever recall asking a woman to carry for me was a pair of sunglasses (IF we went out during the day and stayed out past sundown). Everything else is on my person (and no, I don't wear a Fanny Pack!)

    3. I only assumed the apartment was "run-down" because there are apparently people freely coming and going. I've never known anyone with a "nice" apartment that had people just walking in, at their leisure. Sorry if that sounded pompous. Wasn't the intention. If you like, however, I'll gladly install a dead-bolt, to ensure your privacy.

    4. As for what you may or may not have been doing with the aforementioned rock star, I don't think I ever used the word "sleep". I believe I said "banging" and I thought that was clearly your IMPLICATION, when you referred to his half-naked appearance and how bad that particular situation might be for his p.r. Perhaps I owe you an apology. (I said "Perhaps")

    5. Me? An expert on maturity? You don't know me. I'm an expert on EVERYTHING! LOL
    And no, . . .I don't drink apple juice or play ball, though I also don't think either of those activities is/should be restricted to children. I'm pretty sure that Eli Manning gets paid a few million dollas a year to throw a ball and I don't think he's a "child". I haven't had apple juice in years, but don't think there's anything particularly childish about a juice or a fruit.
    I do think that Sidekick is specifically targeted for a specific demographic. I believe that is the same demographic that knows lyrics to the songs by Billy Ray Cyrus' daughter - whatever her name is!

    6. Point well-taken on the "recent news" concering sleep aides. However, safe & proper use of pharmaceuticals, under the supervision of a licensed physician and without interaction with other drugs should be safe. I'm not a doctor and I'm not giving you medical advice. I simply said that Ambien "maketh me lie down in green pastures". Glean from that what you wish.

    Finally, with the control-freak roomie and the landlord who apparently thinks he's Mr. Roper (is that reference too old for this group?), it sounds like a good time to be moving out of that apartment. Happy hunting.

  10. All right musical "should be a little sorrier" lawyer... in a very particular order, I present... "why stars is right"

    1) Gone With The Wind is not garbage. At all. Just because it doesn't perhaps appeal to your particular taste does not make it garbage. I hate the works of Hemingway but this does not make them garbage. And I can include all media based on your statement. You simply said because lost was not written by sorkin or maher it was garbage. That statement allows the reader to believe that you find all books, newspapers, movies, television, pamphlets and graffiti on bathroom doors garbage as they were not written by sorkin or maher. Most of them I'd hope, anyway.

    2) your reasoning behind why you've occasionally placed something in a female's bag is irrelevant. Fact remains you have done it - even if it was just sunglasses after dark.

    3) you may install a dead bolt on my landlord's mouth. That would solve a few things.

    4) thanks for the perhaps. The clothing implication had only to do with our state after a long drunken night. I can neither confirm nor deny other allegations, just that nothing of the sort was said.

    5) you seem to not have grasped my point. The point is that people like eli make millions of dollars throwing a football but I'm pretty certain footballs and soccer balls are not marketed towards an older demo. They can be used by them, sure. Just as sidekicks are marketed towards a younger demographic but has virtually no bearing on who can and should use them. Electronic devices can be selected by one's own personal choice and needs.

    6) I wish Ambien worked as well for me.