шлушате мусика?

I was recently given some iTunes gift cards which were incredible gifts since I now live in a country whose music sounds like a cat in heat being violently shaken or beaten with a stick. It's great stuff really. Anyway, just figure I'd throw up my thoughts on what I've downloaded in case anyone cares.

808s & Heartbreak: Kanye West Must say, I have never really liked Kanye at all. He seems like kind of a d-bag and his music has always seemed smarmy to me: really overly self indulgent and pompous. But I LOVE this album, it is so radically different than anything else he's done and is one of the most human rap albums I've heard in my life. Love rap as I do, its rarely subject matter that everyone can relate to. But 808s & Heartbreak is really different, Kanye kind of puts a soundtrack to every break up you've had and every time you've felt out of place or disillusioned with life. I don't know, I know its not everyone's type of music but there's something I find very honest and eerie about it that I'm really enjoying a lot. If you haven't checked it out yet (and I realize I'm behind in my music over here, cut me a fuckin break) definitely give it a shot!

The Bird and the Bee I have no idea if I've just never heard of them, but I recently stumbled across this duo and just absolutely love them! It's 'pop' made for adults, kind of hard to describe I guess, but just really great music to listen to while you're cooking bagels or hand washing your sheets in your bathtub. I guess they had a few hits in 2006, but they just came out with a new album as well. If you like electronic-pop-light stuff, check them out.... the vocals are great and I am excited for my first bus trip with these albums.

Circus: Britney NO WORDS NECESSARY. Just amazing. And don't think I haven't checked her tour dates to see if she's coming to this forgotten region of the world... so far no but if she comes anywhere close I will BE THERE. I would If You Seek Amy her any day.

The Least Gay Music Video for a Gay Song Ever

As an associate of many of The Gays, I have for years held my hand over my heart (or boob) to the Gay National Anthem "Call on Me" when it is played at clubs, at parties, at the gym, in a car. Recently, I decided to investigate what the music video was like for a song that inspired even the bearest of gays to twist and jump and shimmy their shoulders.

What my investigation found was truly incredible. The only thing gay about this music video is the fact that it makes me, a woman, need to take a cold shower and recite the rosary a few times.

Warning: Have Cleanup Towel Ready.

Two things to use as fodder for discussion:

1. WHERE DO THESE AEROBIC CLASSES EXIST. PLZ ADVISE. I NEED TO GET IN SHAPE.

2. Many of the dance moves featured in this music video also are found in clubs when "Call on Me" is played... except replace the really hot girl in a leotard with a sweaty man in a bedazzled Urban Outfitters shirt. Fail.

I don't tip on beer...

Now that I am dabbling as a bartender I encounter a wide variety of people from all walks of life, and while I also do when I wait tables, the addition of copious amounts of alcohol makes these interactions all the more hilarious.

"I don't mean to be rude but..." was what a drunken Georgetown asshole premised his request one day. You know what I say, don't even finish that statement whatever you are going to say is going to be rude and I am probably either going to kick you out or make you a very special shot called a cement mixer.


Look fun? Maybe but funny thing happens when you mix Baileys and Lime Juice, its like pouring cement in your mouth. Have fun puking that out.

"The Secret Service called me the other day about the guns in my house..." is a prime example of TOO MUCH INFORMATION. I don't care and I don't really want to know that the angry alcoholic who comes in every night and gets sloshed alone is armed.

And finally, coinciding with the title of this post I was out somewhere else and ran into this person who insisted that tipping on beer is not necessary, as it takes no effort for the bartender to open that beer. Sure, go for it. The bartender will love to provide you quick and expedited service. Seriously.

Also this video is slightly hilarious, there are a ton of different videos all letting you know that your bartender probably hates you. Check it out!

What a FAIL

Ever feel like you are having one of those terrible days, like maybe you were walking down the street and saw one of your friends, called them and much to your horror saw them look at their phone and ignore the call?

Or better yet you've found the girl of your dreams and it turns out she feels the same way. You go in for the kiss hoping it'll be like the movies and she vomits.

Then this site is for you. F My Life is now my new favorite site that everyone should check out. Here are a few of my faves at the moment:

Today I signed up on one of those "cheater" dating sites- and ended up meeting my own girlfriend. FML

Today, I threw a rock in the air and watched it soar. Yet it came back down and hit me in the face. Gravity. FML

Anyways have fun kids.

The City is Burning

This video was made at the end of the OHD summer before Miss Clinton embarked on a voyage to Norway. Miss Clinton was a fine arts major and crafted many beautiful projects that other OHD inhabitants made good use of (I think in particular of the full size plaster cast of Rio that lurked in the darkest corner of our basement as a ploy to scare party goers who'd heard the tales of the 9 dead bodies found in the basement). Anyway, this is a city that Miss Clinton made of matches for one of his classes. The natural question to ask was "well.... what would happen if we set it on fire?" Keep in mind this is an entire huge box of matches. So we decided to sling back some mojitos and find out. Listen to the commentary...... it is by far the best part.

BURN DOJO BURN

Some highlights, in case you missed them:
J: Anyone got a burger? S: ugh I wish... I'm hungry. (1:23)

M: This is maybe a little too close to the house. J: I think its ok. (2:23)

S: This is the Olympic Torch. M: This is Beijing. J: AHHH! It is! It's based on... oh no its based on Japanese-- S: Same diff. (2:58)

M: Ah, we're having a seance. S: Oh, that- Not funny. Too soon. M: Yeah. The bodies will come back to life. J: Oh God. S: Mario, they can fuckin hear you. J: Would you think, Mario? (4:31)

Makeover!

Flash is right. We gotta bring this disaster back on track! But, you know, still keep it a disaster. Although, I think it's fair to say that if the people she seems to be spending a lot of time around make it a habit to run around shooting pistols in the air occasionally dressed as Santa, her judgment might be a little off. On second thought, considering the crowd I hang with in DC and the recent repeal of the district's handgun ban, that same scenario is probably not too far off in my future. Also, WHAT A NICE DISASTEROUS LIFE YOU'RE LIVING, FLASH!

Kudos.

Anyway, this special looking guy in the above pic is what this post is all about, and he is our savior. And he just found out. Yesterday. But I think he'll need a bit more convincing that being one's savior is no simple request that one can accept or deny. No. It's part of one's destiny and soul and cannot be rejected, much like video games and beer and all-things-german and home depot and kickball and Pennsylvania and cigars. It's the same thing. Handy Andy, the IT guy is going to transfer (effortlessly, of course) all the disasters from this blogspot website to our new home at www.onehotdisaster.com!! Yea for Andy!

Yea for Andy and yea for Flash, who, true to her psuedonym, has decided to send tastefully inappropriate titty pics to our beloved Andy, of her titties. Big, bouncy, beautiful and soon-to-snag-a-harry-potter-look-a-like titties. For the blog. For Laughs. For Jesus.

Sooo, keep on the look out for the big switcharoo ("switcharoo" was not flagged by spellcheck!?! really?) coming as soon as Andy recovers from the titties and fulfills his destiny. WE'RE BACK, HEATHENS.

One Hot Disaster.... It's Been Too Long.

FLASH IS BACK.

I recently read back through the OHD blog and couldn't stop laughing and I realized that it would be a true tragedy to let this blog die away, especially when our lives are no less What-The-Fuck-Tastic than they've always been. If anything, mine has only gotten more so as I've come to realize that impractical drinking is not what is responsible for my hilarious shit show of a life, its just the way I am. Great. So, I'm writing now to bring our readers back and I hope that Miss Mount Vernon and Rio will be close behind me.

Lets talk about New Years Eve. As many of you know, I have quite a fantastic track record of performances on NYE assisted in part by SoCo/Lime shots, hot tubs and men named after fish (or Florida baseball teams). This year, I set off for NYE assuming that it would be comparatively tame to those in the past and resigning myself to a life of being a grown up. Fate disagreed and I once again found myself in strange circumstances.

After several hours of imbibing in quality plastic 2 liter bottle beer, friends and I hit the open air town plaza at about 11:45 to ring in the New Year. I no longer live in the United States, but rather in a country whose laws sometimes are a little more dangerously lax or unenforced which was strikingly apparent as we entered the square. A slew of 14-15 year old boys were running wildly through this plaza throwing lit Roman Candles into the air, at people, onto the ground, wherever. One of my friends served as a croc spotter of sorts, identifying where firecrackers had landed and steering us clear of losing a limb. Firecrackers, though, were tame.

The real spectacle was the illogical use of firearms: at times, it sounded like a Compton gang war with several people wielding pistols and shooting them off into the air in celebration of the New Year. My favorite was a drunk man dressed in a head to toe Santa suit, poppin off rounds as he walked around and laughed. GREAT. No dangers there. None at all. Weirdly, this happens more frequently than you may expect. I wake up every now and then to gunfire in the middle of the night and two days ago, as I sat in my living room, I could hear someone firing off rounds somewhere close by. There's been like one murder in this country ever but people love to shoot their guns off to celebrate.

After making it through the war zone alive, we arrived at a classy discotecque where we used our status as boozehound Americans to side step the entry fee. This club was just.... the stuff of dreams. Blood and glass on the floor, a haze of cigarette smoke, drunk seventeen year olds humping each other on the dance floor. My ideal. So we spent about 3 hours dancing the night away with a bunch of eastern European teenagers and drinking for cheap. Later that night, we returned home where I was assaulted by a cat for a few hours before finally getting fed up and karate kicking it across a room.

I'll never grow up, motherfuckers. Rio? Miss Mount V? Take it away.