10. Juno
Spoiler: Juno thinks the mixtape he made her is "cute," but, as far as she's concerned, "nothing beats the raw power of Iggy & the Stooges." Save your twelve dollars for a back alley abortion, everybody.
9. Rachel Zoe
Anorexic ghoul, celebrity stylist, and Anna Wintour-disser Rachel Zoe leaves 2007 behind with a fresh trail of haters in her path, and a pair of naso-labial folds you could see from outer space. Aspiring starlets beware: the first ten pounds you lose on The Rachel Zoe diet are mostly soul.
8. Jerry Falwell's Ghost
Stupid fat fucking homophobic ghost.
7. Emo Guys Who Have Crushes on Pam from "The Office"
I get it, fellas. She's not intimidating, like one of those women who wears make-up and styles her hair, and has a good job that she enjoys, and confidence, and a..what do you call it...an adult woman's sexuality. There's nothing scary there, because there's no mystery: she's just like you! Mousy and shy. And one day your fantasy will come true. You'll meet a nerdy, cute girl just like that (like you), and NOBODY BUT YOU WILL KNOW SHE'S PRETTY! Shhh! It's a secret! And she'll melt when she sees your record collection, and she'll swoon when you play her the song you wrote, and she'll never want to go out to a party where you'll be forced to talk to people of social status, or comb your hair, or buy grown-up shoes, or demonstrate a hearty handshake, or make eye contact, or basically act like a man. You know what? If you want to date somebody just like you, here's a novel idea: be gay. At a certain point, there's a lot more dignity to actually taking it in the ass.
6. People who complain about Whole Foods being “Too Expensive.”
Here’s what I like to say whenever somebody starts in with that. First I pretend to listen. I nod and stuff, and make my eyebrows look like Sad Person Eyebrows. Then, I say:
“It sounds like you can’t afford to shop there.”
5. Perez Hilton
I don't like it when overweight people throw the first taco, bullying drug addicts just because they weigh more than Kiera Knightley. Perez takes way too much pleasure in kicking Britney when she's down, and for that, plus his dubious accomplishment of being famous for accomplishing what Hedda Hopper could've done in her sleep with a Wacom tablet, I draw a metaphorical dick on his face.
4. Master Cleansers
Please, ladies: if you’re considering going on this fast, just try Anorexia instead. There’s more dignity to telling family members you’ve “just eaten” than there is chugging down a Poland Spring bottle that looks like there’s piss inside of it.
3. The Editor Who Decided It Was a Good Idea to Profile Chelsea Handler in the "Domains" section of the NY Times Magazine
Keep in mind, gender card-doubters, that Domains is a feature that profiled Bill Maher as well, and that reporter asked him about McCain and Rumsfeld and atheism. Now I know that Chelsea Handler's favorite funny word is "Badonkadonk" and that she weighs 126 pounds. And while a lady who tells you her weight in her workout room is about as classy as a guy who tells you his annual salary at a cocktail party, that doesn't mean either statement is fit to print.
2. A Two-way Tie Between The Reverend Billy and The Jerk Who Fed Me Nuts
Click here for further description of the World's Ugliest Man fighting progress and here for the dark tale of a gay man who didn't like me.
1. Kate, the Proprietor of Kate's Joint
Kate's Joint serves "Vegan Junk Food" to adults who enjoy riding bikes and women who hate glamour. I dined there recently despite my judgment, life experience, & general philosophy of being self-preserving, because a friend of mine had her heart set on it, and I enjoy her company as much as I long for the day Morningstar farms has to recall their vegan "Chik'n Strips" because they've been accidentally tainted with foie gras.
Vegan Junk Food, which is as pathetic of a dichotomy as "Non-Alcoholic Beer" or "Safe Sex," includes non-meat equivalents of nutritional Holocausts like Disco Fries, Fettuccine with "Mock Pancetta," chili-"Dawgs"(the misspelling indicates the management's love of actual dogs), Nachos, Southern Fried Tofu Platters, Maple Syrup-drenched pancakes, and other dishes for vegetarians who love animals as much as they hate their own bodies.
After a disappointing meal (is it still considered disappointment if you expect it?) I used the predictably filthy restroom at Kate's, which looks like the bottom of a skateboard and smells like a bike messenger's diarrhea. After I washed my hands, I stretched my arms, and GORED MY FINGER ON THE SHARDS OF RAZOR-SHARP TILE STICKING OUT OF THE FILTHY WALL OF THE BATHROOM. I looked down at my left hand to see my (appropriately, middle) finger bleeding, and missing a chunk of skin from its tip.
I raced home to dose my hand with Antibacterial soap, hydrogen peroxide & Neosporin, muttering under my breath the whole time "Never Again. Never Again. Never Again," as though I were meditating on 9/11, and soon thereafter filed a complaint with the Board of Health in hopes of getting that barn shuttered. A NYC official followed up with me weeks later to assure me that they'd found pointy tiles sticking out of the bathroom wall, as well as "numerous other health code violations" in the establishment, which I assume refer to the items on the menu.
I will keep you posted. As Nate pointed out, it would be SO COOL if Kate's shut down, just so all those Bowery Poetry Club-attending, Critical Mass-riding, Reverend Billy-like douchebags can chalk it up to the social trend of "WHAT'S HAPPENIN' TO THE EAST VILLAGE, MAN?!?!"
To better people, places and things brightening your & my 2008,
Julie K.
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