May 2004

method & red // lacki threw this into the junk drawer on Sunday, 05.30.04
I hate all forms of television, but I guarantee that I will be watching every episode of FOX's soon-to-be hit series: Method & Red. From the commercials, it seems to be a Cinderella story, much like the Fresh Prince of Bel Air, except Mef and Red will undoubtedly fuck a lot of white bitches and sell herb to minors. It's the type of television gold that simply cannot fail...

Late-night parties, hot ladies and heavy bass SUV’s aside, Method Man is a lovable momma’s boy who talks to his pet goldfish, “Goldie.” Redman, the Abbott to Meth’s Costello, realizes they need to connect with their neighbors and become a part of the community.

For some reason, I can't picture Redman attempting to connect with his cracker-ass neighbors, unless they were all white chicks with big asses. Regardless, this type of show speaks to me, the goatee wearing, Mountain Dew drinking cracker who loves XXXtreme comedy. Now, we just need to get these two guys a show on FOX... or maybe NBC.

mini pocket // lacki threw this into the junk drawer on Monday, 05.24.04
I have a pair of Swiss Army khaki pants that I like to wear 5 out of 7 days a week because they make my ass look incredible, and if you've seen my ass, that's no easy feat. Like a Swiss Army knife, the Swiss Army pants are full of hidden features, such as a little strap thing to hold your keys and a mini pocket inside the right front pocket. The mini pocket is the bain of my existence. Random pocket objects like to wedge themselves into the mini pocket, such as keys, loose change, cell phones, and delicious Werther's Originals that I use to lure small children into my van. Today as I was riding the elevator, I did a quick pocket check... I tap my ass to see if my wallet is there (check), I tap my left pocket to see if my cell phone is properly holstered (check) and I tap my right pocket to see if my keys are there (uncheck). The keys are trapped in the mini pocket, and must be rescued. As I tug and pull and yank at my keys, it suddenly dawns on me that when this elevator doors opens, I'm going to look like I'm tugging and pulling and yanking at my genitals. Luckily no one was there, and I was able to free the keys from the mini pocket, but I now realize that this was the most pointless junk drawer update ever written since nothing really happened. Rachel, can you please write something in here? Things actually happen to you on a daily basis, like that time you freed the slaves, or that other time when you worked at Walgreen's, and that old lady told you that you were quick with your answers, and you punched her in the face.

trainwreck // lacki threw this into the junk drawer on Monday, 05.03.04
Oh jesus fucking christ.

grease // lacki threw this into the junk drawer on Monday, 05.03.04
Did you ever eat really greasy pizza, I'm talking so greasy that you hold the slice at a slight angle and the grease just pours off and bleeds through three paper plates, and then you get back to your desk and you can feel the grease on your fingers even though you just washed your hands and you can't stop smelling grease everywhere because it's dwelling deep in your lip crannies so you go back to the bathroom and scrub your face with paper towels for 45 minutes and even though the paper towels are now drenched in orangy-red grease, you can still smell the grease and then the janitor comes into the bathroom and he's like, "Hey, stop wasting paper towels!" so you break his broom in half and stab him in the neck with the pointy end and offer his body as a sacrifice to Vito, the Jersey God of Grease? Guess what I had for lunch today.

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