But since it's the end of June and work has almost ground to a halt, I decided to visit on the off chance of catching some interesting confessions.

VISITING AFTER FATHER'S DAY WAS A BAD CHOICE!

Ohhhhhhhhhhhhhh maaaaaaaaaaaaaaaannnnnnnnnnnnnnnnn, this country is in trouble.

Gentlemen, hear me out: when you have kids (and you will have kids) love them, tell them you love them, and make sure you hear love back from your children (shake them and demand that they "say it like they mean it" if need be), because you don't want to be at work one day twenty years from now and see this...

There are also some really touching notes (god the one with the turtles killed me!!!) so I encourage you to check it out and call you dad, even if you already did this past Sunday.

So #6 link was supposed to be this friggin hilarious interview of Joss Whedon at some comic con, only the douchey reporter thinks Joss is a Joss look-alike, and Joss being Joss of course pwn3d him with his gentle Jossnerd humor. There, now I can enjoy the weekend.

Will start posting my photo experiments soon. Baby steps.

1. The first sign of the apocalypse: Britney's pregnant, again.
2. The second sign of the apocalypse: Grizzly Bears and Polar Bears fornicating. Hybrid bears, you're on notice.
3. Smart ass captions and old timey cartoons, must be http://www.marriedtothesea.com/. See below.
4. File this under "are you fucking kidding me" NYTimes picks the most best american novels of the past 25 years.
5. CuteOverload is killing me softly, and snuggily.
6. Seriously, there was another link that I really wanted to put here but I totally forgot what it was, thanks to work. Thanks a lot work. It will come to me, soon.
7. Michelle Collins went to the Museum of Television and Radio and posted this. I'm also going to post Jimmy Tango's Fat Busters because I'm as original as original recipe from KFC.

So this past Saturday [read two weeks ago] I totally blew an entire beautiful gorge birds singing beethoven pastoral symphony ringing spring afternoon indoors watching the first half of the NFL Draft. Sunshine and double strollers are for yuppie homos, but watching large men with large watches and large diamond ear rings shed large tears, that's manly man entertainment (or as I say mantainment). Though I do not follow college football exactly, the meat parade is interesting nonetheless if only as a glimpse of the surefooted talent of tomorrow, before they start tearing ACL's, murdering their wives and something about a sex boat full of hookers?

In any event, for me, my humble readers, no news was greater than the cloud parting knowledge of the origins of #4 pick D'Brickashaw Ferguson's Christian name. At some point last year, I became obsessed with this man's name. Seriously, not since Natron Means has an FB player's name driven me to waste copious amounts of time wondering what parental conversation led to naming your son after an embalming salt. I'm utterly fascinated by athlete's names, but for some reason football has the best.
We heart Plaxico.

Well you've waited long enough. Here it is...

Father Ralph de Bricassart, from the Thorn Birds! God, is there nothing better in life than Richard Chamberlain (rhetorical question)? Mr. and Mrs. Ferguson, my hat is tipped. Nothing finer than a 6'6" 300lbs. offensive tackle named after this guy...

BONUS! Here's a list of nicknames i've been coming up with so I'm ready for upcoming Jets games: Brickles, Brick Shit House, Two Bricks Shakur, ManBrick, Brick Rickshaw, D'Bricka Mankicka, Mo' Bettah Meaty Meat Brick and Turd Furguson. If you got more, give a hollah at cho boi.

Will pay $5.

So when a Brooklyn community leader dies, it effects me deeply, even if that particular community wants absolutely nothing to do with me (unless I was a hooker or wanted to buy a camera). I was saddened to hear that 91 year old Rebbe Moses Teitelbaum, leader of the Satmar Hasids passed away this week. Here's a picture of the handsome devil...

Leaving in his wake a power vacuum so tremendous it was a top story on NY1's top of the hour "news in a minute" segment.

The issue at hand is which son will take over as grand master rebbs (my own title thank you). Tradition dictates that the eldest son take over the father place, in this case it would be Aaron. But Aaron runs the far off Kiryas Joel peeps in Orange County. So who runs Williamsburg you ask? Apparently younger bro Zalmen has been handling the family business here, and it sounds like Brooklyn wants the Z-Boys to run dog town. In any event, I haven't been this excited about showdown since I saw the trailer for Stick It. Which I plan to see this weekend. Any takers?

* Liza on Larry King, being HIGHLARIOUS.
* Snakes on a Plane, the real trailer. "i've had it with these snakes".
* We heart Swan Brooner even though we secretly wanted to be the girl with the two dads.
* Pregnant naked Britney immortalized
* BSL hot and spicey every friday (now with SXSW gayness).
* Finding out what it really takes to be gay from Leslie Stahl.

As they say in France: C'est tout que c'est j'aime! Or something like that.

"I can see the reasons, artistically, for dropping Whistler's mother," said Mickey McConnell, an instructor who until recently taught a survey course at the University of New Mexico and has used Janson for years. "But it's become so well known, such a part of the culture. What if there's a cartoon in The New Yorker that uses it as a reference? Younger students aren't going to know what it's talking about."

SERIOUSLY, WHAT IF? But let's face it, Whistler jokes are as played out as Grant Wood jokes. Wait, hang on a minute:

"He also added some works that have long been cultural superstars, like Grant Wood's "American Gothic," which surprisingly had never appeared in Janson. (This might have been because Wood and H. W. Janson once taught together in Iowa and were said to have disliked each other.)"

THE DRAMA, but where's the beef?

"Mr. Jacobs said he would have liked to include Audubon and was disappointed that he had to leave out the photographer August Sander and the performance artist Ana Mendieta, among many others. But he was able to beef up both Marcel Duchamp and Robert Rauschenberg, moves he said were long overdue."

If ever there were two guys who wanted more BEEF it's Duchamp and Rauschenberg. BAZING! No word on if Jasper Johns got his overdue beefing.

Check out the full article to see who was voted off the island: http://www.nytimes.com/2006/03/07/arts/design/07jans.html

This one was for the thumb, and we did it. Congrats to all the pitt peeps. We earned it.

We love you Bus. God's blessings on all of you.

xoxo - urcella

1. Receptionist for an Acupuncturist
2. Receptionist for a furniture gallery
3. Receptionist for a NFP
4. Baby sitter

Four movies I can watch over and over:

1. Anchorman
2. So I Married An Axe Murderer
3. Kill Bill
4. Unzipped

Four places I've lived:

1. Los Angeles, CA
2. London, England
3. NY, NY
4. Brooklyn, NY

Four TV shows I love:

1. Arrested Development
2. Simpsons
3. Family Guy
4. Aqua Teen Hunger Force

Four places I've vacationed:

1. Providence, RI
2. Paris
3. Las Vegas, NV
4. Granite Bay, CA

Four of my favorite dishes:

1. Pizza
2. Burgers
3. Creme Brulee
4. Potatoes, any style

Four sites I visit daily:

1. Gawker
2. The Superficial
3. I Don't Like You In That Way
4. Go Fug Yourself

Four places I would rather be right now:

1. Santa Monica, CA (at the Tudor House at tea time)
2. Pittsburgh, PA (having a beer next to the Monongahela River)
3. Bergdorf Goodman (on scholarship)
4. Pillow fight with Clive Owen at the Sanderson in London

Four bloggers I am tagging:

1. Sean-san
2. Colin-san
3. Johnny Maldoro-san
4. Eli-san

And this my young friends, is the glory that was being sold: http://www.shopnbc.com/product/?familyid=J157629&storeid=1&track=-20101

They marketed it as a conversation piece. So what kind of conversation would this ring inspire I wondered?

1. My grandpappy coached a small college (which no loger exists) football team from Delaware in the great Rooster Bowl of '37, and this was his championship ring.

2. I moonlight as a cockfight arena commentator and this was a gift from Don King after he won some money on a bird named Mr. Pretzles from Chihuahua, Mexico.

3. I lost a bet.

4. This gave me the most Rhodium bang for my buck.

Still, if anyone wants to buy this for me, i'll happily "strut [my] stuff while wearing this bold sensation!" Size 5.

So i'm sitting here in my office max answer to a Herman Miller design, laughing with Jason Mulgrew, when he makes mention of you can't make it up by Michelle Collins (nominated for a Bloggie I might add). I click, I read, I laugh, I love. I then click on Chelsea Peretti's, and repeat. I could have clicked on a dozen more blogs these girls linked to, and the same would have happened. These funny bitches are all in cahoots. Which lead me to the conclusion: I'm not that funny, and no one will know because only two people read this blog. One of which may I add, gave me a stellar box cutter for my birthday. Thank you sean.

This will be my weapon of choice when I attempt suicide in the Pret a Manger accross the street from my office whilst demanding they bring back their Sweet Potato Chips.

PS kiddies: I hate the name of this blog, I was trying way too hard. Please send me something better and more appropriate for my simpleton writting skills. Somm'in like "I make fart noises with my mouth". Yeah, good.