January 16th, 2004

flavored with age

Whorin'

Today’s Ludic Log: Tales from the Bizarro World, featuring Retard Jimmy Olsen!

(Sorry about the quasi-repeat; I got in too late to do the Marvel Handbook recap. It will return next Thursday.)
flavored with age

You're the one that I stay up late for

Went out to Joy-Blue last night for a book-signing party by my lovely and talented pal Claire Zulkey. Hung out with some fascinating folks, discussed the class-consciousness of "The Simple Life" with Nathan Rabin, made sinister filming plans with Steve Delahoyde, and discussed the medical profession with Dr. Hot Pants. YES, THAT'S RIGHT, DR. HOT PANTS.

I meant to take pictures of this event -- I had my digicam with me and everything -- but I just plumb forgot. Sorry. I also learned that you shouldn't order my new favorite drink (Bombay Sapphire on the rocks) at Joy-Blue, because they charge nine fucking dollars for it. Anyway, I am now the proud owner of an autographed copy of Claire's first book, Girls! Girls! Girls!, which I intend to sell on eBay for millions.

I like having smart friends, even if it leads to uncomfortable pauses like one last night, where Claire was introducing one of her friends around, and a semi-circle of people had sort of coalesced, of which I was the far end. Claire mentioned, while making the introductions, that she felt like she was at the center of a potent intellectual gathering -- why, here's Dr. Hot Pants (a doctor!), Nathan Rabin (the entertainment editor for a beloved national magazine!), her friend Rick (a microbiologist or some fucking thing!), and...uh...me. I thought about simply backing away and hiding, but Claire kindly mentioned that I was able to speak English.

When I got home and went to sleep, I had an incredibly vivid series of dreams, including a fake news report about a nuclear submarine sinking with some incredibly dangerous weapons aboard and the Navy attemping some elaborate and risky rescue, and one about eating some hamburger that a relative had made for me only to discover it contained bone chips the size of my forearm. THE END.
flavored with age

Say, fellows! Here's fun! It's not racist, really!

Lately I've been trying to figure out how "The Simple Life" co-star, the bootylicious Nicole Richie, came to be. She self-identifies as black, and she is putatively the offspring of two African-Americans. And yet, she is almost as white as her best friend, cokeheaded retard Paris Hilton, who is the whitest person in the world.

April in Paris

So, in light of her recent revelation that she is not in fact the biological daughter of Lionel Richie, but rather of a (black) member of his band, I wondered: what African-ancestried couple could produce someone who looks like Nicole Richie? My first thought was: "Star Wars Christmas Special" star Diahann Carroll and albino reggae star Yellowman.

Diahann, Diahann, Dyin’

yellow woman loves a yellow man

What do you think? Who else could be Nicole's secret mommy and daddy? Answer, and be damned to hell!