So, I may have mentioned before that I’ve never seen Glee. And before you yell at me and tell me how zomg it is the amazeballs!!!!! - it’s not that I didn’t want to; I just missed half of the first season and I can’t stand starting shows halfway through YES EVEN IF IT DOESN’T REALLY MATTER FOR THE STORY (call it an OCD thing), and then suddenly it was season two and then two and a half or some shit and frankly, I have like 9 seasons of the Real Housewives to keep me occupied so I figured I’d just get around to it sometime, ya dig?

Well, I’ve recently discovered that A) you can rent awesome shows from iTunes and play them on your iPad for 99 cents, and B) 45 minute elliptical workouts are a hell of a lot better when you’re watching something that you adore and not freaking ESPN 8, a la Espanol to one side and C-SPAN to the other because apparently the people on either side of you at the gym prefer to be BORED OUT OF THEIR SKULLS on the treadmill. Maybe it’s a tactic to black out ever having gone at all, so you don’t remember how miserable it is? Either way, not my cup of tea.

SO. Once I put this magical possibility together in my head, I realized that Glee is available for iTunes “renting” and it is a glorious 43 minutes per episode. AKA the perfect length for a workout, and bonus- whenever I’m feeling extra tired, a musical number kicks in! THANKS KURT-AS-BEYONCE, I NEEDED THAT.

Now sneak attack back to the ring!!!

Mmmm hmmmmm. Work that sass, ladiiiiiiiiiies!

Anyway.

So yes, folks. I am officially a Gleek, and loving it. The hardest part is that I’m only allowing myself to watch it when I’m working out, so I foresee a LOT of gym hours in my future.

(Clearly, I’m not above treating myself like a five year old who wants a candy bar if it will get my ass on the treadmill. Only my Snickers is the Acafellas, and my Reeses is watching Sue Sylvester take you down a peg or eighteen.)

Oh and, sidebar… make sure no one’s around when you watch the scene where Kurt comes out to his dad. Because HOLY TEARBALLS, BATMAN.

If you like this post, I actually run a community blog called In It To GYM It with 100+ contributors, all… you guess it… In It To GYM It. If that’s your bag, feel free to check us out over there.

Mama said share.

You all know this game by now. Time for another installment of “The Shiz My Boyfriend Says“…

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On the couch, completely and totally out of the blue:

B: You know what our problem is?

Me: What?

B: Neither of has ever bought the other person a wolf. (reflects) You should probably get on that. My birthday’s in August.

Me: ……………

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While watching “The Gates”, a horribly-acted, completely tween-tastic, but still mildly entertaining wanna-be True Blood:

The Sheriff on the Gates: (talking to his wife) I killed that man… I knew he didn’t have a gun, he raped and killed those women, he was gonna walk… and I thought, what if it were you? Or our daughter? And I killed him. I shot him.

Wife: (after a long, drawn out, super-judgy pause) … We’ll… we’ll figure it out.

B: What the hell? Stop being so melodramatic! Oh, I killed an evil monster in the line of duty who was going to rape and kill innocent women! Wahhhh, poor me!

Me: Seriously. If you said that to me I’d high five you. Hell, that could be my Valentine’s Day present. You killed a rapist! And you did it for me? You get a pass this year for Christmas!!

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The other day, B was waiting in line at City Sports. He noticed a cute old woman standing just off to the side, and wanted to make sure he wasn’t taking Frontsies without asking.

B: Oh, I’m sorry, are you in line?

Bemused Woman: No, sweetheart… I’m just watching you dance.

Turns out, my love had been inadvertently tapping his foot along to George Michael’s “Wake Me Up Before You Go Go“… and made the mistake both of telling me about it, and of letting me share it with you.

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B’s new thing is to cover a “cat-designated” Yuengling box with about 40 ounces of catnip, and watch them go batshit around the apartment, before collapsing into a drug-induced kitty coma.

Me: Honey, go easy on the crack!! This much can’t be good for them!

B: Why do you have a problem with our cats being crackheads? What, they gotta go to WORK in the morning?!

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And on that note, much thanks to @jojozaff for bringing this into my life:

Mama said share.

Hey! Have you tweeted today yet? (If you don’t know what this is about, please to clicky here!)

Follow @LivitLuvit, my favorite contestant in the @MTVTJ search for MTV’s first Twitter Jockey! #zyncmtvtj

(Feel free to modify, the above suggestion is just for your copy & paste convenience. Cause I’m good like that.)

Update: I just found out voting will start on July 7th, and it will be via Facebook. (I know, the irony…) Anyway! You will only get to have to vote once, so make sure we’re Facebook friends and I’ll send ya a reminder! WOOT!!!

And now back to our regular programming…

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Last week, bored in an airport with only my laptop to entertain myself, I of course turned to you, the interwebs, to keep me company. And as always, you did not fail me.

With one simple question, my internet life flashed before my eyes.

And hot DAMN if y’all didn’t rally.

Without further ado, I present to you…

A History of The Internet via Viral Videos We Loved

The Hamster Dance! (click through for the song)

Alien Singing I Will Survive!

The “Oogachaka” Dancing Baby

“Fat Kid Singing Numa Numa Yei”

Banned Commerical – “Blind Date”

“Star Wars Kid”

“Chocolate Rain” by Tay Zonday

“Sneezing Baby Panda”

“Chinese Backstreet Boys”

“Shoes… OMG, Shoes!”

Will Ferrell’s “The Landlord”

(Apparently, the munchkin is Jeremy Piven’s niece! Um, awesome?? Thanks lbluca77!)

Ahhh, how they take me back. Happy Friday, lovebugs!!!

Update: I’m totally adding more with your suggestions, so bring ‘em on!






Yes, this is an ad. Mama is poor, yo:

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Mama said share.

I woke up yesterday morning to an SOS message in my inbox.

“Dear Lilu…aka Karaoke Queen….

I have NEVER been….

I have been invited to go….

March 13….

Would you consider writing a blog post on HOW TO KARAOKE?

I mean seriously….how many drinks are involved?

Do you pick a song based on ease of lyrics or personal love?

I am intrigued and terrified at the same time.”

~ Donna

Well, Donna. Given that I know a little something about unabashedly crooning for strangers, particularly in seedy bars, how could I not help a sister out?

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The Rules to PWNing Karaoke

First things first. You want to get there early and snag a table with an excellent view of the humiliations- I mean, performances. Choose a place that serves ginormous beers on the cheap so you don’t miss having your name called by the DJ while ordering a beverage. You should occasionally have someone bring a round of shots by to lube the wind pipes your dignity.

Drink heavily and with purpose. You need to be bordering on sloppy drunk but perform justbefore going over the edge. Timing is of the essence here, people.

Now, the venue. It’s preferable if the place is extra shady; things like poor lighting and the stunted walls of an acoustically-challenged basement can only help you here, folks.

Next, you’re going to need a group of friends to share the pathetic experience with you. More is better because it increases the chances of anyone remembering anything. Less is better because it decreases the chances of anyone remembering anything. Either way, you should definitely choose them from the “Will Have to Love You Anyway” pile.

Now it’s song choice time. There are a few basic rules to this:

1. Make sure you know either 50% of the words or 100% of the beat. Make SURE. Just because you rocked City High’s “What Would You Do” in high school doesn’t mean you can do it now, friend. Trust.

2. Choose a song the whole bar will want to sing. Unless you’ve actually got serious skills, class participation is key to making everyone forget that you probably kind of blow at this. Also? Nothing downer, unless it’s hilarious, like All 4 One’s “I Swear.” No one wants to hear you wail out to T.L.C.’s ”Waterfall” or, God forbid, Oasis’ “Wonderwall.” Save that for the car. (Not applicable when driving in Southeast D.C.)

3. DO NOT choose one of the most cliché karaoke songs ever. It makes the bartender groan because you are now that person that put on “Friends in Low Places” or ”Don’t Stop Believin’” for the eleventy millionth time . I don’t care if it reminds you of college and a time when you didn’t know what IBS was. Do not be That Guy/Girl.

(…Let someone else do it. Because I guarantee they will, and then you get to sing it anyway. God, I love those songs.)

Once you take the stage, which should be earlier on the night (you don’t want to have to follow anything awesome- you want to BE the awesome!)… anyhoo, you’re going to want to have a set of decent and/or ridiculous but wholly entertaining dance moves at your disposal. These will be helpful during musical interludes, places where you flat out forget lines or totally lose the beat, or to dodge items should they start, um… coming your way. (Remember the five D’s: dodge, duck, dip, dive and dodge!)

There’s really only one word you need to know to give a unique and memorable karaoke performance:

COMMITMENT.

Don’t half-ass it, folks. If you suck, suck royally. If you dance, dance your heart out. If you don’t know the words, sing louder. OWN your time on that stage. Own it hard.

Whether you like it or not, friend, you’re putting on a show. You might as well make it epic… for better or for worse.

***Update!

Addendum: When coming to the grandiose finish of your performance, no matter WHAT song you’re singing, you must thrust your arms in the air in a “V for Victory!” fashion and shout, “KNIBB HIGH FOOTBALL RULES!!!!!!!!!!”

That is all.***

Mama said share.

Or at least of things that make me laugh. Please to enjoy… all the videos that Maxie and I decided were hilarious last week.

You’ve probably seen these before, but they never cease to make me giggle…

For the Always Sunny lovers out there… (did you know there’s a special CHRISTMAS video out?!?)

This gem is from my dear friend FattyLumpa, who knew I would appreciate it, as I am well versed in the Stankiness of Leggs myself…

And last but not least, Maxie and I have decided this shall be our next music video…

ROCK.

Miss you guys!

Mama said share.

Seriously, y’all? After all the TMIs I’ve done, yesterday is apparently “the line”? Frankly, I’m shocked. I rescue my toilet from overflowing and scrub my hands vigorously afterwards, and that’s too much for you?? It’s like I was Michael Vick and the offending wad of TP was a sweet, sweet puppy I was beating mercilessly with a blunt object.

No no, I’m not mad. I’m DISAPPOINTED.

Anyseriously, let’s lighten it up around here with a few videos.

Last Friday, I was at one of the divier holes of DC called Recessions. Think insanely cheap mugs of watery beer and crackheads fighting over a pool table. Got it? Okay, good.

So, on Fridays they justsohappen to start karaoke around 9pm. And I knew immediately what had to be done. I put my name in and waited…

And then, when they called me, I looked over at my darling f.B and informed him he was coming up on stage with me. Like, RIGHT THAT SECOND.

I’m a good friend.

(It’s a bit dark, but you’ll get the jist…)

Yes, that’s right. I took f.B’s karaoke V-card by making him RICKROLL A WHOLE GODDAMN BAR WITH ME. (His account of THE INCIDENT here.)

I’m pretty sure it’s my life’s biggest accomplishment.

I hope you can see the running man I busted out around 40 seconds or so. Mostly because it (hopefully) covers up my “singing” voice.

Moving on…

I think everyone’s seen this by now… but JUST IN CASE, I feel like it’s my public duty to share it. Because if you haven’t, I guarantee it WILL get you through those last painful hours of Friday in the office…

“Hi Mom!”

This is because it’s hilarious, especially if you’re from or have ever BEEN to Bahstun…

And THIS is to make up for yesterday. I hereby pledge never to reach into a toilet again. I will let that bish overflow… that’s a TMI in and of itself, if it happened, isn’t it?

Happy weekend, love ducks!

P.S. I wasn’t going to say anything because I wasn’t sure she was posting about it, but my dear friend KassyK recently found out she has skin cancer and is having surgery next week to have it removed. They got it super early and it should be A-OK, but do me two small favors if you can: 1) Go send her some mad love and good vibrations, and 2) GET YOSELFS CHECKED OUT, MOFOS. She’s in her twenties, peoples… it can happen to anyone.

Mama said share.

Some of you are fortunate crazy enough to follow me on the insanity that is The Twitter.

Shameless plug WHAT!

Some of you are smart enough not to.

To you I say, tough noogies!

Please to enjoy some of the mini-drivels I subject my fellow Twatterers to on the reg…

Dear Tool Academy: If I had a penis, I would soooo stick it in you… apple pie style.

@Paper_Chaser Kathy Griffin… with a Levi Johnston on your arm. Re: What public figure should I impersonate this year for Halloween?

Just had a flashback to ripping off my ankle wrap during sexy time last night. That must’ve been super hot…

I just adjusted my jeans… and B assumed it was me trying to dance. God, I am white.

@LexaLemmy @ihatesomuch I miss you hookers already. Belt out something you know I could NEVER dance to on the way to @clevelandsaplum‘s.

Today, I bought sensible underwear for the first time in my life. It kind of makes me want to go do a keg stand and puke out of a moving cab.

My favorite Halloween idea so far, via @afiendangelical: “Chuck Norris and MC Hammer. Because Chuck Norris CAN touch MC Hammer.”

I know I’m 12, but I can’t see an “Orangina” without giggling.

My favorite found-my-blog search term today: “life is tough, get a helmet”.

Aaaaaaand my computer no longer has an F6 or F8 button. Thanks, Axe Murderer. You are a whore, cat.

Seriously? I’d rather be dumped via Post It. At least then you don’t have to STAY with the guy. Re: @msfbpuddin: What are people’s thoughts on a text message marriage proposal? Yay or nay?

I just typed “sad face” in a comment and then realized I was actually frowning. <— NERD ALERT

While cleaning the apartment… Me: “Hey, hand me the 509.” B: “You mean FOUR oh nine. We don’t have that fancy 509 shit.”

I’ve had FIVE google searchers today come from “hairlip vag open”. WTF.

@pilgrimcongress I just saw a girl who looked like you! Except you should teach her how to do her eyeliner right.

I would rather let a monkey fling its poo at me than ever watch another preview for Jennifer’s Body.

Just passed heavily pieced and tatted dood… walking his two mini poodles. Juxtaposition is fun!

B: Girl cat, did you just fart??? She farted right in my hand and now my hand smells!!! Ah!!

While walking around Columbia Heights… B: “Don’t step on that AIDS bag!!!”

I just took a shower and was confused by all the pink fuzz in the tub. Then I remembered we all shotgunned beers in there last night.

Ahahahahahaha!!! When fruit goes “bad”… watch out for his banana. via @ChasRunner:

If that’s not awesome sauce, I have no freaking idea what is.

But @12minds does:

Happy Tuesday!

Mama said share.

So. I had a positively scrumptious time this weekend in Beantown.

OBVIOUSLY.

And I am A) exhausted from the funsies and B) get to spend the day packing!!! Which, to B, means desperately trying to throw away sort through all of “my junk”.

Communist.

I wish I could put a camera up in the apartment for the day… this shiz ain’t gonna be pretty.

So for yous guyses, this means you get some pretty, pretty highlights. (Don’t worry, they’re the very expensive kind done by a professional gay man- no brassiness here!)

The scene: Dinner with my parents, B, my Lil Sis, and her boyfriend on Friday night. Fun fact: Lil Sis has been aching for a dog for months now, and had planned on getting one when she moves in with her bf in a month.

The highlight:

Mom: So what kind of dog do you want, Lil Sis?

Lil Sis: (As her face falls) We’re not allowed to have one at the new apartment.

Mom: Awwwww, so you’re not getting a puppy?

Lil Sis: No. YOU were the one who told me NOT to!

Mom: Well, no, you shouldn’t. It’s expensive and a lot of responsibility. But… puppy…

Lil Sis: Unbelievable.

LiLu: Oh, come on. It’s just like if your 16 year old daughter gets knocked up! You don’t WANT it to happen… but once the baby’s here, you’re still going to love it!

*crickets*

My poor family.

The scene: Meeting up with Boston’s most fabulous bloggers (and a few other travelers as well) at The Globe Bar for drunkety times. The crew: (if I forgot you, please to forgive, and let me know! It is so very early…) My lovely Julie, brookem, Pilgrim Jill, Hannah, Julie Q, Susan, Emrlds, Alana, A Super Girl, and in some cases, their justly terrified boyfriends, made it the best time any blogger could ask for.

The highlight: Jill Pilgrim double dog daring me to offer Susan’s virginity to a random guy hitting on her for the price of three goats. Which, obviously, I did in approximately 2.5 seconds… at which point we found out it was a friend of hers, and now we had to hang out with him for the rest of the night and be “Those Weird Girls” all evening.

Whatevs. The shoe fits.

Also? All of this happened.

Pretending to be classy. What?

You can’t see that I’m grabbing Jill’s bum.

In a word: FINALLY!!! <3

There is some hate sex in here.

Gawd, I love this woman. ALLLLL of her, apparently…

Tiger hands for Maxie!

Why I oughta…

We bloggers get friendly quick.

The boys entertained themselves just fine…

Sure. I mean, clearly.

Hiccups are a BITCH, yo.

Love you hookers.

Yeah. So. The awesomest of AWESOME. And that is all I have to say about that.

Except get all your asses down to DC so we can do it again soon. LUFF YOU BISHES!!!!!!

The scene: B’s sister getting mawwied!

The highlight: Everything. Jewish weddings are so much more fun! There was breaking of stuff, chairs in the air, a dancing train through the entire room, and incredible view, and a few speeches that even moved my cold dead hooker heart.

A sample from the mother of the groom’s toast:

“When my boys were little, I always changed the descriptions of the princesses in fairytales to say “kind” and “intelligent” instead of “beautiful”. I am so incredibly glad that my son has chosen to share his life with a woman who is kind and intelligent… as well as beautiful.”

*cue heartwrench*

All in all? Best. Weekend. Ever.

And now, we pack…

Sigh.

Mama said share.

You knew it was coming.

My contribution to Tiger Week, being hosted by the lovely Maxie and Jenn. Why Tiger Week? Well, as my fiancee says…

“Last week was Shark Week on the Discovery Channel. I hate shark week. Sharks are probably the lamest animals in the whole world. First of all, they’re a type of fish– I eat that shit for dinner– literally.  Fish blow.

You know what doesn’t blow?

TIGERS.

They are magestic and pretty and great lovers. Wait, what? Nevermind.”

Click their links to read all about why tigers > sharks.

And now, my own two cents about why fluffy, cuddly, whiskery tigers are OBVIOUSLY better than the soulless hell-beasts that dwell in the freaking ocean like cowards…

In one word? EVOLUTION.

Felines have branched out into a million awesomely ferocious creatures- TIGERS, lions, panthers, lynxes, cheetahs, fucking JAGUARS, you name it! Here’s what Wikipedia (aka God, because it is all omniscient and shit) has to say about jaguars:

The jaguar has developed an exceptionally powerful bite, even relative to the other big cats.  This allows it to pierce the shells of armoured reptiles and to employ an unusual killing method: it bites directly through the skull of prey between the ears to deliver a fatal blow to the brain.

Not only are the great cats incredibly BAD ASS-ER (Always Sunny fans click through) than sharks, they’ve even given us mini-thems that we can snuggle in a desperate attempt to feel like we have a little bit of tiger in our own houses! Sure, sharks have been around for a while, but have they produced any descendants that make your heart ache with love?!

Honestly. Which would YOU rather cuddle with this…

or THIS?

Yeah. That’s what I thought.

Finally, as a real-world example of why tiger descendants are way more BAD ASS than sharks’, Murray agreed to help out in a demonstration of his own bad assery. (Please to excuse the jumpiness of the camera- it’s four years old and I think it’s finally kicked the bucket. CoughcoughbirthdayintwomonthsMomcough.)

You can still hear the “dialogue” though. (That’s what true thespians call it, right?)

So there you have it, folks. Murray officially PROVES that tigers > sharks!!!!!!!!! Viva la Tiger Week!

7rqhy3ted5

Mama said share.

I can’t…

Eat a cheeseburger without ketchup. NO MATTER WHAT. Get your gourmet shit outta here… Nothing beats that heavenly sugar and vinegar concoction.

See a puppy without squealing like a 5 year old spotting the ice cream truck. Um, also, there are sound effects involved, and they vary according to size and breed of said puppy.

Work out without an iPod AND television- preferably Tyra, for maximum distraction purposes. If there’s something about sex changes or makeovers, I can make it on that treadmill twice as long.

Keep my mouth shut when I think someone is an idiot. And if I do somehow manage to keep it shut? It’ll be written allllllll over my face.

Imagine my life without B, my darling (asshole) little kittens, or any of my hoes. You know who you are.

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I can…

Wiggle my ears. And no, I won’t show you. Unless I’m drunk. Then, DUH, have you seen this shiz?!

Make you the best damn margarita you’ve ever had in your life. Trust.

Admit when I’m wrong. Fairly quickly. And even apologize for it, genuinely.

Forgive almost anyone for almost anything. Often whether I want to or not… I am nearly incapable of holding a grudge.

Be the best damn listener in the world, despite how often my mouth is moving.

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I won’t…

Feel such a responsibility to be “on” all the time in a social setting.

Let shitty people be a part of my life… even if that means cutting some loose.

Ever stop doing whatever I have to in order to set foot in as many places as possible before I die.

SETTLE. In any area of my life.

Ever give up on us.

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I will…

Cry at animated movies. Wall-E, I’m looking at you.

Dance and sing wherever I want, whenever I want, even when I get the inevitable “Who sings that?… Let’s keep it that way.”

Try to express myself more, ahem, quietly. Speaking louder will not make someone see my side.

Send flowers to the people who make my life worth living, just because.

Hit “publish” on that post that’s been sitting in my drafts since the day I started blogging, no matter how scary it may be…

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I shouldn’t…

Make the horrible, horrible jokes that I do. (And especially not relish it so much.)

Write people off immediately, because they don’t believe in my rights to my body as a woman.

Swear so goddamn much. Well, at least in the company of children and the elderly…

Giggle like a school girl whenever I toot. (snarf)

 Take so much joy in shocking others and pushing them outside of their comfort zones.

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I should…

See my grandparents more often.

Stand up for myself when it comes to money and friends. It goes against my nature, but so does getting screwed over repeatedly. (TWSS.)

Publish the hilarious mess of a vlog I made with Maxie and Caviandra. Wait, this goes under “shouldn’t”…

Drink less, work out more, eat better, blah blah fucking blah.

Be a little bit more grateful, every day, for my fantastic little life, and everyone who makes it that way. (Here’s looking at you, kid.)

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Inspired by this, this, this, this, this, this, this, this, this, this, this, and this. If I missed you, I’m sorry- shoot me an email/comment and I’ll remedy that in the shake of a lamb’s tail.

Mmmm. Lamb.

Mama said share.