Adventures in food poisoning

I'm disgusting and warning anyone reading this that it may get gross. We'll see how I feel.

So yesterday, Kathryn and I went to Bazookas Sports Bar in Secaucus for lunch. I drowned my fries and burger in ketchup per my normal routine but I was only able to finish half, which for me is pretty unusual. But whatever, 20 pounds by July, right?

Anyway, I come home and get a call from my friend Anna who wants to meet for dinner and a movie in NYC. Cool, I tell her I'll be there around 9. As I'm getting ready, I start to feel kind of queasy but figure it'll pass. Mind you, I hadn't eaten anything in 5 hours and I hadn't been 'sick.' So it was right about the Hoboken stop on the PATH train that my stomach took a hard-core turn for the worse. Anna met me a Christopher Street and we started walking and the gross feeling began to pass so I figured I'd make it. We popped in to a little Thai place and I ordered food with absolutely no intention of eating it.

After my water came, I excused myself and headed to the ONLY female stall in the place. And I kind of let loose. It's a little awkward vom'ing in a public restroom and not being intoxicated. Especially when the sink is on the outside and it's not very convenient for rinsing your disgusting mouth. Oh, that, and you never actually get the fun of being drunk. But I digress ...

Two trips to the bathroom later and a full serving of chicken pad Thai wrapped to go, Anna and I head out to the Angelika. At this point I feel like I've emptied my stomach and everything should be good. Sure, at one point I felt like I was going to pass out after I had expectorated gallons of 'stuff' from my body, but it passed quickly and I really was feeling much better.

So we're headed down Bleecker, passing NYU, when super-disgusting queasy feeling creeps up on me and I tell Anna I have to go around the corner.

"Are you going to vomit?" she asks in her posh British accent.

"Totally," I say as I kneel down and lose it right there in NYU's courtyard at 10 p.m. on Saturday night. And poor Anna (she must have been so embarrassed) insists I get in a cab and go home.

So we hail one and he wants to charge me $42 for the fare and $8 for the toll. WTF?!?!?!? "Actually, can you just take me to the Christopher Street PATH station?"

(Two-minute time elapse) "Actually, can you go ahead and take me to Jersey? Fuck it."

So I give the man my right arm and run upstairs to the bathroom where I stay for a good 25 minutes, constantly toiling over whether I should be hunching over the toilet or sitting on it. Two ruined pair of panties later and I realize I should've just holed up in the shower. Duh.

But on the bright side, I lost five pounds in a single evening and that's 25 percent of the goal.

I really hope this story brings us all closer together.

*** Becks ***

Kudos for Zimmipants

Alix makes people look in the mirror and like what they see, regardless of our own perceptions. And that makes her awesome. Duh.

*** Becks ***

Just a squirrel trying to get a nut ...

In reponse to Layla's posting on John Mayer:

I just saw the promo photo for the reunited New Kids On The Block and I hate myself for saying it but I would have sex every one of them. Oh yeah, even monkey-faced Danny. They're wearing well-tailored suits and I'm two years, eight months and 12 days not in the hole (and yes, I remember the exact date ... it was that lame). I'd be embarassed, but I'm way too sexually frustrated to let any other type of emotion seep in. Except for crazy -- that's always welcomed.

Speaking of crazy, good luck to the next DOOD who does get to lay me. Once he gets past my constant recitation of "I don't put out," he then has my Wonderbra speech to look forward to, as well as my "I need a lot of reassurance" episodes. And an ice pick ... he'll definitely need an ice pick, and probably a three-day weekend. But after all that, he'll be one of the luckiest guys ever. And I can attest to this because one way or another, they always come back.

Poor love of my life. He has no idea.

Besitos, kids. And appreciate your sex life because you never know when you're going to get laid again.

*** Beckstasy ***

Someone marry me

Preferrably with less than 8 letters in their last name. I can't handle having a 10 letter last name anymore. It's too hard to type fast when I'm buzzy. I'm over it.

Beckstasy. you better step up to the plate with this blogging action.

xoxo
LS

WTF

Perez Hilton actually got to smooch on John Mayer? Where the fuck is the justice in the world?

And I'm not feeling guilty about lusting after that self-proclaimed douche anymore. He's a tall drink of water, with questionable taste in women. The consistent theme is this: Huge Jugs. Well I got 'em Johnny Boy, and my body's a motherfucking wonderland.

One year and four days in the hole. Or rather, not in the hole.


grrrrrr.....

Scissor Sisters, always a good omen.

HIYEE!

So I just came from "working" at Touche. I think it's awesome that I'll be working at a place that's one letter off from douche.

Anyhoo, let me say that place is effin great. Amazing menu, super staff, and regular clientele. I guess The Pearl District is similar in nature to the Meatpacking District? I mean, supposedly it's considered the swanky, trendy, dare I say pretentious area of town. But clearly the Portland notion of pretension is quite different than what it's like back East. Regardless, if it all adds up to me making serious bank, then I'm not gonna argue.

So apparently they really like me there. I can't say that I blame them, I think I'm built to serve. I mean, I love food. I love eating it, I love looking at it, I love thinking about it, and I like talking about it. I'm going back in on Saturday night, and I've filled out a W4 already, but until I hear the words "You're hired, here are your shifts..." I'm not celebrating yet. As I was leaving after eating my tasty dinner and sipping on some yummy Spanish wines, "Take Your Mama" came on the Ipod that was shuffling. I have to assume that's a good sign.

I love it out here. I just can't believe how smooth a transition I seem to have made. SPEAKING of transitions...I hope people caught "The Pregnant Man" aka Thomas Beattie on Oprah today. Did you know he lived in Oregon? I wonder if Bend is gonna become a new destination for previously oppressed trannies.

xoxo
Layla

No seriously

http://www.dlisted.com/node/24969

That shit about his abuelita is too fucking much. If you don't think it's hilarious, then why are we friends?

~Layla

Guilty pleasure

Ok, maybe I shouldn't feel guilty about it. My Ipod's on shuffle. It's got MC Paul Barman on right now, and I'm stoned reading Dlisted.com. And I'm laughing maniacally. That shit is super funny though, the whole lot of it. Whatevs. I live in Portland. I needn't make excuses.

xoxo
Layla

Mad ups to Eric

I'm urban.

I just read on PerezHilton.com that Rick Astley was on Seacrest's morning show talking about the Rickrolling phenomenon.

Are you kidding? Eric broke that shit years ago.

Have you ever met a 25-year-old cougar?

Can we please talk about "American Idol" last night? First, Dolly Parton is probably the best human being to ever walk on the planet. She has the kindest spirit and the biggest rack of anyone on the Earth. And that's awesome. As for the performances ... meh.

I'd also like to go ahead and put it out here that I have a serious cougar-crush on Jason Castro. I'm not even into skinny boys with dreads but I'm enamored with him. He kinda looks like a girl ... maybe I should do some experimenting? And he sings with his entire face and looks all crazy and I love it. Love it.

I also want to have babies with David Cook, especially now that he's growing something around his skeevy soul patch (Note to Caucasian Boys: Say "no" to soul patches. Thanks.) I'd hit it.

In other awesome news, one of my interns interviewed a martial arts guy last week. He called today asking for us to do a follow-up story on how this Saturday he'll attempt to break "5,000 pounds of brick and concreek." That's right kids, conCREEK.

Muchos besitos!

Inaugural Blog!

I'm popping Ooooogurrrl's cherry! Finally, I'm getting some sort of action in the New Year. Beckstasy and I have been threatening for a while to do some sort of collaborative writing effort. Now that I live on the other side of the country, we figure this is the perfect time to stop being lazy. Man we suck sometimes.

This is an opportunity for us to stay in touch (aiming for daily) as well as a way for you sick internet fucks to keep up on our musings. I mean let's not kid ourselves here, we're pretty hilarious, and you know you miss hanging out with us.

So that's all I have to say for right now. I should probably go start my day. It's not raining or hailing yet. In fact there isn't a cloud in the sky. Take this opportunity to flag the page, make it a favorite, and start stalking. You know you want to.

xoxo
Layla