Hooray for a return to common sense

I know, I kid, I joke around, I write lists of stupid things to do to stave off boredom during a natural disaster. As a former New Yorker, watching the devastation of Hurricane Sandy on the region–let alone hearing the stories of my friends and their families suffering through the aftermath–has made me really recognize that, wow, what the important shit in life is.

And one thing this week has brought about is a return to common sense. It saddens me to say this, but a few of the last times we had a return to common sense, i.e. people put aside a lot of their petty shit to work on big-picture items, happened during 9/11 and Hurricane Katrina. Does it really take a disaster of these proportions to start making sense of a lot of bullshit? Maybe so.

In any case, may I write a serious post about a serious salute to a return to sanity. Here goes?

1. New York Mayor Michael Bloomberg endorses Barack Obama for president–largely based on acknowledging and working on programs about climate change. If you’re still one of those idiots out there wearing a windbreaker in fucking January in Iowa and bragging at your local store, “Global warming, my ass!” you are truly a fucking idiot out wandering around. It’s time to acknowledge that we’re heating the pad up, folks. And we need to figure out how to open a few windows. (And thanks to Jen W. for this awesome true story.)

2. Speaking of awesome Bloombergian acts of awesomeness this week, the Bloomberg-owned BusinessWeek today had this story.

It's global warming, stupid. BusinessWeek said that. Not me.

3. I am not a fan of New Jersey Republican Gov. Chris Christie, but damn if he doesn’t embody the New Jersey spirit of getting shit done. And his putting shit aside and being cool with Obama? Class act.

4. FEMA is actually working. It’s actually working! Somewhere, Michael Brown is cringing.

5. And one thing that doesn’t smack of common sense one bit. In fact, this is the anti-common sense. And if you don’t see this as a complete and utter lack of common sense, or compassion, or being able to empathize with people in times of need who don’t have, as Bill Mayer put it during Hurricane Katrina, several cases of Poland Springs bottled water to throw in the back of their Land Rover to make it out of a hurricane zone, this is it: Mitt Romney basically collecting a bunch of worthless shit to make his campaign look better after the hurricane hit the Eastern Seaboard. No, Mitt, we don’t need your used T-shirts and sweatpants and canned fucking Campbell’s soup. These Americans need real help. But thanks for trying.

Vote, kids! And vote right.

Welcome to the new Evil Molly

When I started this site in 2009, it was a perfect storm of shit—I’d worked on a book for a couple years that was going nowhere; my dating life was a big fat zero; and I was living with roommates across from the PJs.

I quote from my first post:

It got me thinking. I could fall into the 30-something chick cliché of freaking out, going on the proposed man-hunt to parlay into the dreaded am-I-planning-to-procreate-or-not countdown to 40, all the while contemplating Botox and going on more intolerable dates with dudes I’m not really attracted to just so I won’t end up a lonely 43-year-old in a fifth-floor walk-up studio…That would just be sad…

And so, berated and deflated, I decided to start a stupid blog about anything and all stupid—dubbed “2012: The Fuck-It List.” You may miss these unicorns right here.

Old design with fucking unicorns.

See, if you pick up any sort of media, these are the options for women over 30. To that, I said Hell to the No. There’s not much in the way for women to look forward to in life if you listen to any sort of media out there—and being a part of the media, I think there is something more interesting, less ordinary and more real to cutting your own path. It’s OK to not know what you want—it’s even better to not want what everyone says you should. And to start really examining what is important to you—and you alone.

What have I done in the past three years to thwart this typical storyline? I learned to surf and scuba. I quit smoking. I finagled it so I could move across the country and live my dream of having my own space, more freedom and spend time outdoors.

In the process of securing all this, I got happier. I got healthier. I got a hot boyfriend. With hot boyfriend, I got co-ownership of the world’s cutest dog.

I know everyone says their dog is the cutest, but this is the World’s Cutest Fucking Dog until I’m proven wrong.

And I made a shit-ton of mistakes along the way.

Since it is 2012—and according to a recent poll in New York Magazine, at least 12 percent of Americans do indeed think the world is ending this year—I figured it was time for a change if I plan to keep on keeping on writing for the other 88 percent. Getting this website facelift is like getting a new pair of running shoes—it gives me energy to put more miles on it. New stuff to look forward to…more posts, more timely stuff, and my solid, undeniable idiot advice in the new column “You’re Stupid.”

Welcome.

P.S. A few notes: As with most shit on the Internets, stuff gets messy. While the artwork for this brand-new spanking looking blog is all original and inspired by none of this shit, artist Alex who did my new unicorn forwarded me this pic of Obama riding similar unicorn AFTER he designed my unicorn. (Alex calls it a “happy co-inky-dink.” Since that is borderline twee, feel free to bitch-slap him the next time you see him.)

No, we did not copy this. Seriously.

The artist who designed my unicorn also brought to my attention that this is where the unicorns fucking came from.

We added our own rainbow.

So, with my deepest thanks and gratitude do I give a shout-out to artist Chris Bishop, who does this awesome shit and also works for PBS Kids as a creative director, which shows that you can be slightly vulgar for adults and still do really funny, creative stuff for kids. Suck on that, GOP.

Also to artist Alex who designed my new awesome logo and Roommate Jim who designed the equally awesome-looking site. If you need any sorts of Internets work done, these are the guys to do it.

Mandals and Other Thoughts on Men

Last night we were having dinner with a couple who just got married (Yeah! Congrats, Joe and Beth!) from New York City, when we started talking about the whole Seattle element of the granola/tweaker/homeless look that so many folks out here are rocking, spurred on by the middle-aged hippie on guitar across the street.

Something tells me his breath isn't minty fresh.

“How do you guys take it?” my friend asked. “I passed a guy on the street downtown, and I just wanted to punch him.”

As former New Yorkers all, we sat there and went, Mmmmm…Yes, while this is an emotion we are deeply familiar with, somehow people are not as annoying out here.

“That shit used to really bother me,” I said. “But now I’m just kinda like, ‘Oh, you…’ ”

“Yeah, it starts to fade,” another person said. “It bothers you less and less once you get out here…”

However, the culmination of three key events is bringing the ire out in me: The new Fall Fashion Season is on, but you wouldn’t know it here; the overabundance of gray, stringy, “sensitive-ponytail guys” as Campbell Scott, aka “Steve,” in “Singles” so adequately dubbed them (a great Seattle movie btw); and the fact that I’m actively back in the dating scene.

Here are a few more thoughts on Men and Style and the lack thereof. Take note: Life is not a fucking Kashi ad.

Men in little fucking bike-racing outfits. Seriously, asshole, you’re not training for the Tour de France or trying to bang an Olsen Twin. If I see one more dickbag narrowly blowing by me on the Burke-Gilman Trail with his fancy little expensive padded pants and stripedy-striped aerodymanic shirt, I’m gonna explode into fits of rage. If I was dating a guy and he busted one of these outfits out, I would beat him about the head with his own Shimano cycling shoes.

"I have the smallest penis." "No, I have the smallest penis!"

Shorts in Semi-Casual Social Situations. Are you biking? Boating? Headed for the beach? Hiking? Fine, put on your baggy khakis. But that’s it. I saw a group of middle-aged douchebag dads wine-tasting last weekend—all wearing the baggy, saggy, sad-looking shorts. You know what? Yep. You know better.

Mandals. I once picked up a former boyfriend for a weekend in Long Island. He had just moved from Madison, Wisc. (another worthless hippie town). When he answered the door in Tevas, it totally killed my lady boner. In fact, I was half horrified and half ready to laugh my ass off. Seriously, what grown-ass man puts on sandals that require fucking VELCRO to stick together and thinks that’s acceptable footwear to go to the Hamptons? If you’re wearing mandals of any kind, you better be fucking ankle-deep and fording a stream. Case closed.

  • Wrong…

Wrong...

Wrong!

Flip-flops, however, are sometimes acceptable if you’re scruffy, hot and on your way to your first post-coital coffee of the day.

While we’re on the mandals, men, take care of your feet. Wash them. Trim your toenails. That’s it. Basic maintenance. It blows my mind how gross most men’s feet are. Another big lady boner kill.

Gray-hair, Sensitive Ponytail Man. Soul patches, or anything else that you think makes you look “young” or “hip” past the age of 40.

Just...no.

Let’s just cut all the long hair, right? Unless you can rock this sorta-medium, scraggly Sawyer-hot look, your hair needs a trimmin’.

While we're at it, that whole wet look, shirt undone thing won't work for you unless you're Sawyer either.

Mom Jeans. If Obama can’t make ‘em look hot, what hope do you have?

"But...they were on sale at Kohl's."

Wash your clothes. Please?

Sports sunglasses for everyday wear. Translation to the ladies? I’m gonna slip you a roofie later and fingerbang you to Jimmy Buffett.

Not good for anyone, anyone at all.

Wash yourself. Please?

Ladies, what are your greatest Man Fashion Peeves? And for the Gents, feel free to let the criticisms fly…

Holy Fuck, the Rapture is Coming!

Apparently, there’s a Rapture of sorts around the bend, May 21st, I believe. Now, I’m not gonna jump on that bandwagon—I’m sticking fast to my belief that 2012 is it because those Christians don’t have anything on those Mayans.

Anyway, here’s the deal: The Rapture is when all the chosen folk get their early exit to Heaven, which I just like to think of as a little population control, aka the most Annoying People exiting the planet, so the rest of us can get on with it and have some peace and fun whilst not listening to them prattle on about how marriage is a union between a man and a woman only and that abortions are murder.

A lot of fucking annoying people leaving the planet.

You keeping up?

Here’s a crash course on the Signs of the End: False Prophets, War, Starvation, Earthquakes, Persecutions and Tortures, and Lawlessness. I’m pretty sure most of these things have plagued humankind from the very start of time—hell, even plagued the dinosaurs for all that matter (suck on that, Creationists)—but for some reason, the Rapture folks think this is gonna culminate on May 21, including a very large earthquake in L.A.

Also, the Man himself, Jesus, is supposed to make an appearance on May 21 to take all the righteous folk back to Heaven with him. I found a handy, and I’m sure absolutely authoritative blog, judgmentday2011.com, to help explain it all to me:

“Jesus himself will return to Earth on May 21 per God’s will in order to restore the spiritual world back to a stable level.

Second Coming of Jesus Christ on May 21 2011. The Book of Revelations says that there will be some very difficult times ahead for those who are left on Earth until the end of the world on October 21 of this year. I, and likely you reading, will be among the lucky ones who are able to be saved when Jesus returns to earth for the second time ever.”

Jesus came back. And stole my hot rod.

Anyway, for those of you expecting fire and brimstone and dogs fucking cats, and vice versa, on May 21, I figured I’d do a little list of stuff I’m hoping the Rapture will bring:

1. The First One to go is Sarah Palin.

Yeeeeeooooowwwwww! Jesus, can I bring my shotgun?

2. Star Jones will eat her own head.

3. Exxon Mobil’s headquarters explodes and a giant moneyball blows up and fills the sky with hundred-dollar bills, ya’ all. Us sinners hire the Outkast to play a major show in Central Park.

4. Donald Trump will announce that he’s running for president.

End of days or no, Obama is still your better option.

5. Miller Lite promises that its beer will taste great and be less filling. And it actually happens.

6. Apparently, the Rapture turned up early for this guy. When it hits, feel free to drop trou, but please keep your highly racist and offensive remarks to yourself, so that others around you can enjoy their Rapture experience as well.

7. An earthquake hits L.A., swallowing Paris Hilton’s estate. Prescriptions for Valtrex decline in the greater Los Angeles metro area by 17 percent.

8. Due to reduced traffic on the LIE and the LIRR, New Yorkers are able to make it to the beach in less than two hours on Friday afternoons all summer long. Yippy!

9. End of Days on Oct. 21 alleviates the overwhelming pressure of deciding on a slutty Halloween costume for 2011.

Fuck, I was gonna be Wonder Woman.

10. Earth is finally evacuated, leaving only the members of the Jersey Shore to fight and fuck themselves. Even hell doesn’t want those assholes.

'Paris, you got any of that Valtrex left?'

What do you think is gonna happen?

I feel like we already covered this in 'Ghostbusters,' circa . Now, who you gonna call?