the nomness

I am coming to realize that I am often inspired to post while recovery from the evening before. Lucky for you lovely readers, this is not too rare an occurance and provides wonderful perving fodder. We do not, however, want our topics to be purely banal, so we will offer what I like to call “useful household tips”. At least they are useful in my household.

Yesterday Laymee and I managed a good deal of girly tasks. First task- makeover. That’s right. We went to Bloomingdales and went to my wonderful makeup genie and done did gotten our faces did up. We looked perty. So perty, in fact, that we wanted celebrate. Liquidly. And we made an AMAZING discovery. Coconut lychee martini. Yes. You read that correctly. They were truly things of beauty. And, gentle readers, in the interest of bringing you pertinent news of the booze and boys variety, we decided to take it upon ourselves to go shopping in the Asian grocery store, purchase the relevent tinned and cartoned materials. Did you know that lychees only come in heavy syrup? I didn’t either. Now I do.

So below you will find the elusive Coconut Lychee Martini. It took damn near a bottle of Stoli (consumed by yours truly) I-don’t-know-how-many bottles of persecco (consumed by Laymee) and an endless amount of patience from the wonderful neighbour/friend/bartender at my local (due to the endless amount of bullshit that came out of my mouth).

A healthy pour of stolichnaya. By healthy I mean maybe 5 or 6 counts
Half as much lychee juice
Splash of coconut milk
Touch of chambord
Lychee

Chill your martini glass. In mixer pour vodka, lychee juice, and coconut milk. Shake the hell out of it. Pour over lychee in martini glass. Pour in tiniest splash of chambord. Enjoy

Repeat until the floor spins underneath of you. Or the enourmous polish-american chatting up your best friend with weird conversation about bees looks good.

In oher news, I am finding that blogging from NJTransit is fantastic. This wordpress iPhone app is the bestest. I do have a request for the riders of NJTransit. If you are going to share the 2person seat with me, I ask you to bathe. I hate to be a stickler about this. But like maybe once this week. I know it’s the end of the workday. Hell. I know it’s the end of the workweek. But is it SO much to ask that you don’t smell of the delightful combination of urine and B.O. during rush hour? Maybe wait until the 7 pm train or something? I know that my sense of smell is far more sensitive since I quit smoking. I also know that I am far bitchier (ok, really, it’s hard to tell, isn’t it). Please though maybe next time don’t sit next to me. Kthanxbai.

I just had a near-miss there. Got on the wrong train in Penn station. Seriously. Had to get out and switch at Newark or I would have ended up in Long Beach. I could have sworn the fecking board said track 3.

Soooooo. I will use this time to catch up on other bloggers. And stay awake. And keep from puking. Godspeed. Or something.

Effbit, you called?

Laymee and I went to a very early dinner, and then imbibed (as we are want to do) on beer.  And wine.  Then, an hour before the screening, we meandered over to the cinema and planted our arses in the frontish (no other seats.)  I think I need a deep tissue massage today – old lady-types need at least the midsection of the theatre.  So today I am still mentally replaying scenes. I enjoyed the film, but, as Laymee and I discussed post-screening, I can see it being difficult to follow for someone who hadn’t read the books. And yes, we watched the other 5.  It’s amazing how different they are, and how, IMHO, Hermione pisses me off.  Even in this one.  I can’t even put my finger on it. Personally I think they should have worked on build-up to key points in the book. Like, say, maybe, the discovery of the HBP – the audience wasn’t even led to give a shit about who it was. Just that dude had some old book. And then at the end, when Snape announces “yeah, like, those spells? Yeah. That’s mine. Cuz I’m the Half Blood Prince. Word (quite literally ‘to your mother’).” And Ginny? We ALWAYS knew she got around. She’s my kinda girl. And yeah, hate me if you need to, but I don’t think she ages well! And’s she’s what, 18? This doesn’t bode well….All that being said, I walked away, still a little squee, and still feeling SO MUCH BETTER about Number 6 than I was after Number 5. Cuz Order of the Phoenix was not satisfying AT ALL  And while I can ALWAYS USE more Snape, i felt that he had considerably more face/voice time than he has in previous films…about time, really.

And segway to our cross-over

I think, though, that I have to revisit my other tween obsession.  Twilight has been sorely neglected, I feel.  I’ve been walking around daydreaming about some of this all day.  So it only stands to reason that I post it to share with you ladies.  Also, while I’m not one to beg for comments, reviews, or even validation – trust me, I’m retarded enough that I would prattle on to a mirror and feel just fine about it – we haven’t had one comment since Jenny Jerkface from www.twitarded.com on our very first post – so I’m a little nervous if others are actually ABLE to! (We see you, we know you’re reading!)

Today is really one of the only days I can make a case for all Snape all the time. We have SS on as background, CoS on stand-by, and we’re tracking down pervy Snape fanvids to share with all and sundry Rickmaniacs with a teacher fetish. And it really is worth noting, these are not favorited videos because of the music. Except for Toxic; Toxic is a fucking brilliant song. And The Killers. Hmm, nevermind that dig about the music. It’s also worth noting that I will ship Snape with anyone who’ll have him, so just embrace any potential skeev and you’ll do just fine for the next half hour or so.

Also, the last 4 are particularly brilliant. This chick knows how to edit.

Before I found music, I found comedy.  At 12 I could recite entire routines from George Carlin, would stay up late to watch SNL and Monty Python, and a few years later found the greatest channel ever in CTV, now Comedy Central.  Funny men are pretty men, particularly when the comedy is motivated by confidence, however false, and the prettiest of most will always be Bill Murray.  I think it was Nick the Lounge Singer performing the theme to Star Wars that first caught my eye.  Or wait…maybe it was the boom-shacka-lacka-lacka from Stripes.  Or perhaps the greatest big screen cuss EVER.

It still makes me laugh and still makes me feel funny in my tummy.  Plus you’ve gotta love a guy who has no qualms about dancing like an idiot.

In other news, tonight is the midnight:40 showing of HBP and Effbit & I are stupidly excited, although I’m pre-emptively concerned about the amount of Snapey goodness to which we’ll be exposed.  His damn name is in the title of the movie and yet I already fear having to witness too much of the Ron & Lavender bullcrap.

Let’s open with a little “True Blood” today, shall we?

HOT, Bill Compton. Oh NOM. But WTF with the “Sookie”?

As I type, I have Laymee on the couch next to me watching TB. She has to catch up with this season. The weekend was brilliant – Laymee’s return to the city. Her homecoming. BBQs, Bday parties, and silliness. And now the fave chinese food and vampires. Just have to make sure I don’t snarf my moo shu pork. “Sookie”. We’re spending the day playing with the blog – so if you folks have any suggestions, recommendations, etc, please don’t hesitate to speak up.

We consider THIS the breakfast of champions - primarily because we don't have to get off our arses to enjoy it. God Bless Brooklyn.

I may post more in a bit, but I am completely distracted by scallion pancakes.

"Effbit, Laymee....why are you blogging when you could be self medicating with Chinese food?!"

For a little while, Laymee is coming back to visit, so, and please, pay attention, not only will we be in the same state again but we will be in the same state at the same time as Rpattz and Alan Rickman (wait, he will be here through the weekend, won’t he? I mean, it’s NYC, forchristsake). This may be problematic, as, dear readers, very few people outside our circle of “two” know about our…um….hobby. And those few people would be unwilling to post bail, if we were to, say, approach either of these very polite and respectful men with services of the questionable variety. So yeah, please keep your eyes peeled on all fangirl blogs for the next week and a half or so for pictures of 2 stunning and eloquently spoken women pleading their case in NY1 interviews as most certainly NOT prostitutes. While we are not those fancunts of tacky fame (dem bitches have BAD hair and please. Abercrombie. As if. Ahem.) it is a distinct possibility that we may celebrate Laymee’s return to our fair city and run into a booze-appreciative-minding gentleman of nom variety and let loose with the offers.

Oh, Jackson? You want to meet us for a pint, what? Well SURE! Weather will be GORGEOUS this weekend, no need for that leather hat. Or wear it, but forfeit your shirt. Would hate for you to overheat...

So this is going to be a jam-packed little while and we’re hoping that good things can come from this blog while we are in one place. Again, I’m all childish giddy. So much so that I have to distract myself with going to Bruno this evening and having a jar or two after.

Now. Stuart Townsend. Oh Stuart Townsend. Today I saw you, Stewie (I can call you that, right?) in “Queen of the Damned”. Now, I know what you’re thinking, “Don’t judge, Effbit”. And yes. You have a point. But we both know that that’s not going to happen. I judge, that’s what I do. Please let me relay what little I’ve learned since my undead curiosity has been reignited by Twilight.

Stuart. Vampires don't wear skirts, silly. They sparkle.

I have NO IDEA why I love this badly written series. I LOVE THE MENS, though. OH, nomability factor is HIGH in the film. And deep down, I am actually a romantic. A masochistic idealist. Ridiculous, isn’t it? This vampire thing is FANTASTIC fodder for nomness as vampires are all about sex. I don’t care what you say, unless you’re mormon, you KNOW they scream the sex. Silently. With their eyes.

…..or at least what MTV once was. You know, the common, Gen X lament that there is no more Music Television, just crap “original” programming.

THANK GOD there were musicians/directors/producers who had the presence of mind to include the nomness in their artistic expression. Those girls, those Alicia Silverstones, Liv Tylers, Christina Riccis….they are lovely, they are hot, but they are decidedly NOT the nomness.

Kate Bush – Experiment IV

Laymee mentioned earlier today that Hugh Laurie gave a great performance in “Walking on Broken Glass”.  But does anyone remember his mad scientist fella in Kate Bush’s “Experiment IV”?  Of course not, CUZ HE DIES.  And yeah, the song isn’t quite my cup o’tea either.  Sorry, Kate, this one just doesn’t do it for me.

I’m not gonna lie to you, ladies, I am not the biggest Lady Gaga fan.  Her music doesn’t do much for me. It’s sort of “meh” (any of you who read Brooklyn Vegan should nod at this reference).  I appreciate effort.  But REALLY.  Rein it in a little, woman.  What are you going to have to throw out there when you’re in your 50s and facing Madonna’s mostly naked and terrifyingly veined conundrum? This being said. HELLO ALEXANDER SKARSGARD. You die too in this video, but there is plenty of alive and smooching for you to enjoy. And we do enjoy it.

WHO can deny Walken? I mean, I don’t know, it’s just Walken. Maybe not conventionally nomable, maybe you would just want a beer with the guy, but there is SOMETHING about him, and he’s got the moves in this vid. What’s not to love.

Robert Carlisle. You nom-ed him in “The Full Monty”. You may have nom-ed him in “Angela’s Ashes” (I will explain later why i HATE that book, probably…..I do not endorse anything Frank McCourt does and most of the county HATES him as well). Did you nom him in “Plunkett and Macleane”? I did. And then, of course, there was “28 Weeks Later”.

And Finally….

OF COURSE I’m giving this post my own brand of Happy Ending. He DANCES. BEAUTIFUL limbs. And if you squint, the chick COULD be me, like, 10 yrs ago, considerably shorter…..it’s amazing how alike dark brunettes with pasty white skin can look. Such a good video. Oh. My.

In related news.

The Harry Potter Half Blood Prince Premiere will be in NYC, and I won’t be there. I have an uncanny ability to blag my way into where I want to be. Combine this with an unwillingness to believe that I’m incapable of anything (arrogance and pigheadedness are cruel masters of my dignity) I have had several “near” run-ins with Alan Rickman. Been to several premieres where we COULD have met. I swear to all that is holy that at the Bottle Shock premiere we met eyes and had a MOMENT when he was walking down the aisle at the beginning of the film. I was very close the other day when, come to find out, a friend’s friend is being flown in to do his makeup for the do. Naturally I offered any and all services. I would hold the brushes. I would wash the brushes. I would bloody well buy new brushes for each, ahem, stroke so that there would not be double dipping. Heh. Anyway. No, it appears it is not meant to be. Pity. Though honestly, it’s probably for the best – who knows what we would expose those innocent, wide-eyed attendees of this particular premiere to when all sense finally gives way to passion.

And to think that, as recently as lunch, I considered myself to be quite a high authority on Hugh Laurie’s work. Pshaw and for shame, I was living a lie. Honestly, how else am I to explain how I did NOT recognize Hugh Laurie in the video for Annie Lennox’s “Walking On Broken Glass.” Shocking. I find myself shocked and completely unable to do much apart from click play again. And again. Oh, and once more.

The good folks at Sony BMG won’t allow embedding of the video but I’m here to provide visual proof of the greatest half second of music video footage I’ve seen grace my screen in a good many years, to be followed by video linkage. If you make it that far. Gahh. To set the scene, it would appear Ms. Lennox has had one too many and husband Mr. Laurie is intimating as much across the party.

And then of course, the video itself (also featuring Malkovich!). The above is found around 3:13 and is even better in motion. Enjoy, nommers.

In a fevered moment of inspiration, I’d like to present the following, sure to be the first of many such bits quizzes. I daresay this might be the easiest one so enjoy it while it lasts; when elbows roll around I won’t be nearly so forgiving.

So this one doesn’t do the same thing for my gym work out as the Faster Kill Pussycat (thank you, Twitarded), but it is so much tasty Pattz that I would be remiss not to include it.

Now. The title of my posting. I don’t plan on writing much about social events, I won’t touch on my political/religious/ethical views on anything truly important – or at least I don’t think I will (remember, this blog is going to be completely organic, and I’m pretty confident that the flow of man-worship, and booze, will keep us on target) It REALLY isn’t that I’m being disrespectful – I truly am not. As I watched part of it on CNN, Laymee told me, repeatedly, to turn it off, because I was getting alternately angry/sad/and nostalgic while watching it. It is relative to our common interests only because I needed to do something after switching it off (thank you, Al Sharpton, for leaving a foul taste in my mouth, and thank you, CNN and the world, for making the grieving of family and friends a public spectacle, and THANK YOU, Jackson family, for undoing the many years of hiding MJ’s kids from prying eyes by serving them to the world in the midst of their pain and mourning……breathe…and continue) to calm my crazy ass down, and Laymee, in her vast wisdom, suggested a sorbet, a palate cleanser, if you will, of the Mr. Rickman variety.

And this, ladies, is the AABA eyefuck. Enjoy.

An Awfully Big Adventure. Those four words. Learn them. Live them. Love them. What he can do with those eyebrows, with his eyes, and YES, with his hands (oh yeah, and him on a motorcycle? THIGHS, ladies, you see THIGHS) is criminal.

I find myself refreshed and revitalized.  I am going to a quiz thing this evening with a heart that is less heavy, and a need for Nom that is, for now, sated.  Now the only thing I have to do is avoid any bloody media between now and bedtime.  And I think you know what that means, ladies…….

A bar with no television.