Trophy Wife

Do Not Stick Stand Up Ass

While perusing the manual for a Manfrotto light stand I recently bought, I came across the following, unintentionally hilarious infographic:

Is it just me, or should the description read “Do Not Stick Stand Up Ass”?

Turkey Talk II

Last year, the Abbotts cooked a salted turkey for Thanksgiving and it was wonderful. We were all set to do the same this year. Until… the Fearless Flyer arrived. Or at least we thought it was the Fearless Flyer (that’s the title of the Trader Joe’s circular). But the title of this particular publication was Food Pilgrimager . (Is it a special issue of the Fearless Flyer or some sort of ‘occasional publication’ from Trader Joe’s? Maybe an ISBN or the Audit Bureau of Circulation itself could shed some light on this question.)

No matter. What the Pilgrimager told us was that Trader Joe’s is selling already-brined fresh turkeys. Quicker than you can say ‘Pirate’s Booty,’ I was at the Trader Joe’s at Movietown Plaza.

How will our store-brined bird turn out? Check back in a few days. If I know Trader Joe, though, I’m guessing it will be gobble-gobble-good!

POST-THANKSGIVING UPDATE
The turkey was fantastic! Get a Trader Joe’s Brined Turkey and you’ve got a party.

IN WHICH ONE EYELINERED TEEN SPEAKS FOR US ALL

This doesn’t have much to do with Trophy Wife (if you don’t count the fact that Britney provides the soul-fuel on which we all run) but I can’t help but post it.

LEAVE BRITNEY ALONE RIGHT NOW!

this is why we married him

‘sup, Mike Coen?

Happy Evacuation Day

If you’re looking for a reason to drink on March 17, look no further than Evacuation Day. And if you want to talk about how your great-grandparents lived in South Boston, or you visited there once, or you saw The Departed, better make it a double, ‘cause Evacuation Day is as South Boston as it gets.

On March 17, 1776, the Continental Army placed cannons on Dorchester Heights in South Boston and aimed them squarely at the British fleet in the harbor. Needless to say, the British fleet pulled out and never returned again. It was George Washington’s first victory in the war.

More Great Insights From the Good People at True

Taken verbatim from my MySpace:

They’re right, though – Love IS so kickass!

No wonder they’re called True!

Requiem for Freeza

Freeza looks nothing like this

Recently, a number of sweeping changes have been instituted at the ol’ iOWest. Upgrades, if you will. A fancy new computer in the booth, a swanky computer system in the box office and bar, Opus’ facial hair. . .

But some of these changes have been bittersweet. For example, our beloved bar manager, Britian Spellings, has since moved on to greener pastures. And a decision has been made to cancel a number of the 2 person shows on Monday nights. Meaning great shows like The Applebottom Gang (featuring our very own Eric and Zabeth) now have to find a new home.

But even more unfortunate than these departures and cancellations is the recent death of a free meal. See, as long as I can remember, the iO has been providing free pizza (or, as I call it freeza) for all participants of the Improv Jam. This freeza was ordered from one of the myriad pizza places down the street and, while perhaps not of the highest quailty, it was nevertheless plentiful and provided the necessary fuel to fire the notoriously outrageous Jam.

A few months ago, the Jam moved from Monday nights to Wednesday nights, bringing the glory of freeza with it. Freeza and I became good friends. Each week, I dutifully followed the House Manager as she made her way upstairs with a stack of fresh freeza. I (and perhaps too many of my compatriots) came to rely on freeza as a late, crappy – but above all, free – dinner on Wednesday nights. Thank you, iOWest.

Well, true to the adage “there’s no such thing as a free meal,” freeza’s days were soon numbered. Little did I know that my little paper plate of square freeza slices two weeks ago would be my last helping. The mandate had some down from on high – freeza would be no more.

Now, the long picnic table upstairs lies fallow on Wednesday nights. (Actually, I don’t even think that table’s there anymore. Must be one of the other upgrades). So farewell to you, fair freeza. You might have smelled funny – you might have tasted like wet cardboard – and you might have even given me a tapeworm – but damnit, you were free. And that was good enough for me.

After all, as the McShane Famly Motto goes: “There’s no food like free food.”

not only is it opus's birthday...

...but his birthday coolkids makeout party (which is TONIGHT) is featured on Defamer.

Everyone come to this thing.

why we will all be alone for the rest of our lives

Guys, take a knee.

I have sad news.

Britney is divorcing K-Fed.

I know this comes as a shock to you. It does to me, too. Because if there’s no love in what was clearly the modern-day equivalent of Camelot, then what hope do any of us have for finding real love? Sorry to be harsh, but totally fucking NONE, that’s what. No hope at all. If people as genetically perfect as these two can’t make it work, THEN WHO CAN? Answer me that.

If I was smart enough to Photoshop a picture of the two of them with a huge crack down the middle, I would. And that’s what my heart feels like. Cracked.

I blame the gays for ruining the sanctity of marriage. You just know that Britney and K-Fed looked around at the hotbeds of homosexual activity in this country (MASSACHUSETTS i am looking at YOU, all right!?) and were like, “screw this, if THEY’RE getting married, I hate you and I don’t want to try to make it work. Not even for our retarded children.”*

I’m giving up on love. I’m ditching Match.com, Lavalife.com, Nerve.com, and SeriouslyThisIsTheLastResort.com and tomorrow morning I’m going to Home Depot and picking up a day laborer to take care of my physical needs.

Now if you’ll excuse me I’m going to go drink whole milk out of the carton, buy some supplies off GoodVibrations.com, and hunker down for a life filled with romantic disappointments.

*in conclusion please vote no on Prop 181739872983714

Next year's Halloween costumes for Eric Hunicutt, based on how he looked in my wig last night

The real deal:

Next year he is GOING to wear my wig and these are the costume choices I am giving him.

a.

b.

c.

d.

e.

I’m leaning toward Greatest American Hero, but, depending on Eric’s gams, the Bernadette Peters thing could really work.