Thursday, December 22, 2005

Merry Christmas, bitch!

'Nuff said. See ya in the new year!

Thursday, September 29, 2005

Can a Bitch Get a Flood Up In This Motherfucker?

It's hot when hot chicks watch the news.

I watch local disaster coverage obsessively. It's like a cultural snuff film, and I am a very naughty girl for loving it like I do. But Vals are twisted bitches. I mean hello, we grew up in the San Fernando Valley. It's so totally polluted. They enclosed Fashion Square because Vals were like totally dropping dead from toxic fumes and stuff. Which is so gnarly. What was I talking about again?

So I'm watching the news conference that's supposed to update us on the status of Nick and Jessica's wildfire evacuation plans*, and instead, I get an hourlong Zev Yaroslavsky-emcee'd California emergency response strokefest. Congrats dude, you're doing your job. Woo! Everybody I know has the shit kicked out of them all day every day at work. It seems gross for these overpaid dicks to stand up and blow each other in the middle of a fire. The emergency response chiefs from all over Cali were staging a preparedness drill, so it wasn't THAT impressive they responded so well and so quickly...they were already there for something else. You see bitches, when we do "meetings" here in sunny Southern California, we do the full runthru with full disaster FX. Take that, The South!

Whatevs...I'm like totally blunted right now, so everything's all good and everything...but like, aren't you supposed to wait until the end of the disaster movie before you run the credits? Unless all that back-patting is generating fire-shushing wind...they should wait, right? "Emergency response in California is phenomenal." Great! It fucking well should be! This is L.A...we make movies. We make dreams come true. We have totally hot firefighters who can totally put out fires. This ain't no bullshit Louisiana. That huge gigantic earthquake is weeks away! We're on our shit. Don't buy 99 cent store batteries for your earthwuake kits...they totally don't work.

When's Ahnold coming on? You know he's waiting until after 2, when people are back from their meth break or whatever. And right before Oprah. Because girl, nobody pre-empts Oprah. Does Villa-Raigosa go first, or are we going with director first and E.P. next? V-R actually greeted the Jet Blue passengers when they got off the landing-gear impaired plane last week. Welcome back to L.A., bitches!

I've been advised by officials not to go anywhere today. I'm so fully into that. Somebody cracked me up yesterday, she said opening the door at noon to let the dog out felt like somebody threw a hot, wet blanket on her. She said she felt the dog was looking at her like a dog would look if you were putting it into the actual oven. Descriptive!

When I visited my pot-dealing neighbor yesterday, he glanced at the fires on his flat-screen and said "God's smokin' blunts, yall." So now you know how to explain it to your kids. A/C, bitches! Stay cool, L.A.

* Nick and Jessica's evacuation plans: Send the El Salvadoran maid and her daugther-in-law, Eva, to pick up as much Juicy, Dolce, and cocaine as she can fit into her husband's white gardener's truck. Vamos, Martha! Andale, biyatch!

Friday, September 02, 2005

Loot Shoes

The tape in this clip might not be what it looks like.
That said...the N.O.P.D. is one of the most notoriously corrupt police departments in the country. Go loot ya'self some Wal-Mart shoes (comma) bitch.  9-1-05n.o. 9-1-05usa 2005

Next up: Valley of the drug-crazed zombies. This will end in horrendous riots when these people get hydrated. According to people around the convention centr, at least 30,000 people are waiting for help right now. Enjoy that glass of water, you lucky bitch.

Don't you have a BBQ to go to or something?

Beware: "Project Blessing"

If you're giving money to aid hurricane victims, give it to the American Red Cross. FEMA may divert your donations to "Project Blessing" to finance Pat Robertson's diamond mine in Zaire. And that would be bad.

In other important news: Crotch flashing is the new nip slip.

Theoretical question: As Laura Bush talks on FNC about Texans opening their homes to hurricane victims (is that what we're supposed to call them since we're not supposed to call them "refugees"?), we were wonderng how many poor non-French Quarter black people will be staying at the Crawford ranch?

Last time my beloved Backstreet Boys toured, 9/11 happened in New York. This time, it's New Orleans. Look out, New Mexico!

Thursday, September 01, 2005


(n): a straight man who dresses like a meticulously expensively styled hillbilly. see: Federline, Kevin.

Wonkette is hardcore:
That the Bush administration diverted funds from the rebuilding of the New Orleans levees to Iraq is by now well-known. What you might not have heard is that the people cleaning up the mess are really pissed about it. A tipster informs us that down in New Orleans, they have a name for the flood waters that have invaded the city: Lake George.

Email attributed by tipster to "friend at the EPA" after the jump.

This is from a friend at the EPA:

We're naming it Lake George, 'cause it's his frickin fault. Have you seen all that data about the levee projects' funding being cut over the past three years by the Prez, and the funding transferred to Iraq? The levee, as designed, might not have held back the surge from a direct Class 5 hit, but it certainly would not have crumbled on Monday night from saturation and scour erosion following a glancing blow from a Class 3. The failure was in a spot that had just been rebuilt, not yet compacted, not planted, and not armed (hardened with rock/concrete). The project should have been done two years ago, but the federal gov't diverted 80% of the funding to Iraq. Other areas had settled by a few feet from their design specs, and the money to repair them was diverted to Iraq.
The NO paper raised hell about this time and again, to no avail. And who will take the blame for it? The Army Corps, because they're good soldiers and will never contradict the C in C. But Corps has had
massive budget cuts across all departments (including wetland regulatory) since Bush took office, and now we've reaped what was sown. It really pisses me off to see the Corps get used by the Administration to shield Bush -- they do great work when they're funded. This was senseless, useless death caused not by nature but by budget decisions.

If all the money that would have prevented this was sent to the war in Iraq...doesn't that mean the terrorists just won a round?

Where's YOUR black arm sling? You are so uncool!

Wednesday, August 31, 2005

The Mothership will fly you out of this natural disaster, New Orleanians!

I'm in unreal pain today (every day is a new surprise), but I came out of my grrr coma long enough to catch Fox News explain that the people in the bright red shirts behind the reporter at the Superdome were from the Red Cross...and the people in the bright yellow shirts were Scientologists, "Who have also set up here to help people." So. Awesome.

I wish someone covering the hurricane aftermath would start talking to the victims about how they're all black. It seems like it might be an excellent use of a ton of media coverage to start talking about how fucked you are when you're poor and black in America, breaking natural disaster unfolding or not. As a middle-class white woman, this is always on my mind, obvs.

Tuesday, August 30, 2005

Never Gone

I'm almost finshed recovering (recovery = no more painkillers). The shoulder is GREAT, and I'm thisclose to being all the way better.
bsbI'd like to thank The Backstreet Boys for being the only ones who understand me. Don't get me wrong...The Captain is great and all. Blah blah. He loves me and pays the bills...that's fine. When I'm laid up, the Backstreet Boys cheer me up by making me a video. It captures me completely, all the way down to Jersey in 1985. It made me nervous at first, since I hate when the Backstreet Boys read my mind (obvs). Nonetheless, I love you, AJ-as-Nikki-Sixx! I love you, badly shot&lit overacting! I love you, Sebastian-Nick! It's so important to acknowledge the lasting influence of Warrant's choreography. There are only 4 good songs on "Never Gone", but I won't stop playing it. My neighbors are 2 of the gayest gays to ever over-embellish a lanai, and even they are offended by the level of gayness blasting through the paper-thin North Hollywood shitbox apartment walls. Go to Halfway down the page, click on "Just Want You to Know". Do it for me. It's the least you could do after not giving me your Vicodin when I needed it. Or one measly cupcake. Shee!
preop shoulder day
Play with Google maps. It is SO fun. I'm naming my firstborn Google. Use the hybrid map-satellite view and find your ex's house. Again. Or do like I do and trace my trajectory of show business failure via satellite, all over the Valley. Glendale Hills to Hollywood Hills to industrial No Ho in 6 clicks, bitch!

Sunday was Doug's 4-year death-anniversary. Nothing new on his memorial site, but if you haven't seen it, take a peek here. I noticed that Missy Elliot didn't mention the tragedy as she has for the last 3 years -- even while she was onstage Sunday night at the VMAs (with her Aaliyah replacement, Ciara). Whatevs. Doug Kratz loved Shonen Knife, who are playing in L.A. tonight. If he were still around, he would so totally knife tonight! And if I wanted to blast "Never Gone" in the cabriolet on the way to the show...he would be totally down with that shit. He'd sing along -- loud. I don't miss Doug...I love Doug. "It's Haircut 100." Indeed. La-la!

I'll be all the way back after the holiday weekend. If you need me, I'll be in bed with the laptop and the Big Brother 6 feeds and my Backstreet Boys cd. So just stay away. You want no part of it...ask the gay dudes next door. It's bad. Besides, I'll totally ignore you.
janelle - howie
Go, Janelle! I am totally in love with Michael, James and Kaysar.
My new email address is Because I'm cool, and cool people Beta test GMail. Whatever, bitch!
whatevslala 023

Monday, August 01, 2005

Countdown to Ecstacy

I'm having shoulder surgery on Wednesday. Soon, I'll be able to do this.

Thursday, July 28, 2005

Wild on DivorcE!

This one's for your boyfriend:

Brooke Burke is getting divorced.
Brooke BYou still have no shot.

You're welcome, bitches.

I hope she retains custody of the twins.

Thursday, July 21, 2005

It's a Boy!

We have a new baby!
seamus 7-21-05 001

Wednesday, July 20, 2005

Dude, you could so totally have sex with Jude Law

Because there's no way you're worse-looking than this chick. He'll cheat on you, but if you urgently crave J. Law, you're in luck!

Apparently he turned it around and blamed the bimbo actress gf, too. I never liked Jude Law until now.

I think I'm done with this one. British people are retarded. We now rejoin our regularly scheduled Lindsay Lohan anorexia roundtable, already in progress.

D. Ouchebag

Sean Combs thinks you're really stupid. Yet he trusts you enough to name him:
WHAT'S IN A (P. DIDDY) NAME? Today, Lowdown announces a spectacular contest with a fabulous grand prize (to be decided later): Can you guess Sean Puffy Puff Daddy P. Diddy Combs' new name? The 35-year-old hip-hop mogul says in the upcoming Us Weekly that he's tiring of his latest moniker. "And I'm about to change it again," he says. Why? "Because I can." Send in your predictions for the new name, and there will be a suitable reward, when the time comes, for the right answer.
Tell you what, Puffy: Write down your new name. We'll seal the paper in an envelope until someone guesses it. When we unseal it and the name you wrote matches the one the "winner" wrote down, you'll get a ton of publicity! Hey! Where are you going?
I'm having a contest, too. I know what the greatest cupcake of all time tastes like. All you have to do is send me cupcakes, and if you correctly "guess" which one is the best ever (because I know!), at an indeterminate time in the future, I may or may not give you a prize of some kind! Spec-tacular!

Don't toy with my emotions

Update: According to Pam, she and Tommy are now and always will be BFFs. Nothing more, nothing less. God damn it. A lot of good that Dr. Phil book she's "reading" is doing her.
Maybe it's all for the best. Tommy's starting to look like Alice Cooper.

Yesterday I mentioned The Golden Girls' Estelle Getty, who is suffering from dementia. In an interview with E.T. (the show, not the alien who's about to star in an unfortunate remake), former castmate Rue McClanahan doesn't do Estelle -- or herself -- any favors:
"She's got the same disease, I was told, that DUDLEY MOORE died of," says Rue. "I don't know what it's called. It's not Alzheimer's, and it's not Lou Gehrig's, and it's not Parkinson's. You can't think anymore."
Indeed. That sounds terrible, Rue.

Estelle's pretty far gone. Just like we did yesterday, she mistook this for a picture of herself and her girl B-Arth back in the dizzy:
I can totally see why that was confusing for her, though.

E.T. sequel casting thought:

If you go outside today, you will burst into flames.

Tuesday, July 19, 2005

Jude Law: Nannybanger

My second choice for this headline was Burnt Sienna. Nannybanger won the coin-toss.

If this Defamer pic is what it looks like, Jude Law has enough for everybody:
Egads. Crumpets and all that. The Brits call that thing a tallywacker. Maybe it's an industrial size Nerds rope. Oh, forget it. There isn't a thing in the world that could be except for what it is. Yeee. Shudder in the bad way!
Sadie Frost divorced Jude Law because he was cheating on her with Sienna Miller. They deserve what they get for trusting him with a nanny. Especially one who comes complete with flirty promotional pix. Come ON! Jude was busted when one of his precocious Brit brats scampered down the hall and walked in on Daddy banging Bridget Jones on the pool table. Mo-om!! That kid totally won't need therapy.

Clearly the lesson here is twofold: Always hire an unattractive nanny. And lock the god damned door when you're having sex with her.

Freek Goddesses

pam and tommy
How many times will Tommy hear "Third time's the charm" before he beats a bitch with his phone in 4/4 time to "Shout at the Devil"?
pam tommy pam tommy
So of course Pam is gonna re-marry Tommy. It is as it should be. Vals love Pam because she's the original big silicone boob-having, Greek freak loving, Uggs-in-SoCal-in-the-summer wearing, NSA Mocha Ice Blended-sipping Val. And it's a matter of record that Vals love Greek guys. Tommy was born in Athens and grew up in Southern California. Go get ya' man, Pammie!

I wonder if she calls Tommy "The Captain"?

pam12cx Pam's a mom...she's practical. Too practical to bother with press releases and embarassment when Brenda and/or Kelly make a surprise appearance (I believe we're saying hello to Kelly, above). Who has time to comment on everyday pesky annoyances? We have ants in the bedroom. I don't call Bonnie Fuller.

Tommy reportedly gave Pam a black diamond ring. While any ring is an upgrade from the original, much-altered wedding tattoo stupidity of their first 2 marriages, I feel feh over news of a black diamond. I know a lot about jewelry and gems and...what the hell is a black diamond? Pam is your bright shining star, Tommy. Give her a sparkly clear diamond, jackass! Doesn't try telling a Greek his taste in jewelry (or anything else) is subpar. Greek men are very prideful. Hi.
The Captain wore this little number out shopping on Sunday:
a la casa july 2005 107
...and I love him all the way down to the frayed hems of his manpris. If he'd worn socks with his sandals...well, let's just say he did not...but if he had, they were the kind of sandals he could have worn without fear of a Federline sock-wedgie.
Kevin Federline

VG Advice: Have that ring appraised, Pamster. It might be a tightly balled-up piece of tin foil set in platinum. Or a chunk of glass he pulled out of a flat on the side of the 101. I love him very much too, mama. Have ya' shit looked up.
Vals love Pam so much, we're willing to forgive that she was born in Canada. Marry Tommy 3 times and you become a citizen of the world, bitch. Waste no time, Pammy...get married now, this weekend, then welcome your baby daughter (Brenda, obvs) 8 months from yesterday. Pam's later-in-life pregnancy will replenish her and they'll be a happy family. Yeah, I'm spizzeculating. Like I did when I advised Paris to find herself a Greek dude and marry him. Hi.
parii in athens
Speaking of the Parii, they're still in Greece. Paris allegedly escaped back to L.A. over the weekend. If I had the means, I'd fly home from Greece to hang in L.A. whenever I felt like it too, so whatevs. He seems like a clown. And i don't just mean the way he dresses (but I do mean that also). The Captain spent much of Sunday researcing American satellite programming availibility in Greece. Does he love me or what!? You already saw Man-Paris in his clown suit above. I don't have the heart to post it twice. Instead, here's Whatsis and the reason Paris-with-the-vagina is so grouchy lately:
If I know Paris (and I do), tension over this old whore will tank the relationship -- if it hasn't already. Today, she filed a $10 m lawsuit against she-Paris based on this item in the Post:
PARIS Hilton was attacked on the dance floor of a London nightclub Thursday night by a jealous ex-girlfriend of the hotel heiress' fiancé, Paris Latsis.
Zeta Graff, who dated Latsis for two years before he dumped her for Hilton, went berserk at Kabaret, where she had to be restrained by security men who escorted her from the club.
Graff suddenly flew at Hilton and tried to remove her necklace. "She was screaming and it looked like she was trying to strangle Paris," said one source.
And from today's Post:
Paris fitted for $10M suit
Paris Latsis' ex-girlfriend has slapped Paris Hilton - with a $10 million lawsuit.
Zeta Graff is suing the "Hilton Camp" for causing "a number of vicious lies ... to be published in the New York Post" about an incident June 1 at the London hot spot Kabaret. According to the Post, Graff "went berserk" and "attacked" Paris Hilton, attempting to pry loose a $4 million diamond necklace that had been loaned to Paris by Graff Diamonds - a company run by Zeta's ex-husband Francois Graff.

But Graff says this is all bunk. The lawsuit, filed Friday in Los Angeles Superior Court, calls the story "baseless" and unsupported "by even a scintilla of truth." In fact, according to court papers, Hilton actually approached Graff that night and whispered in her ear: "You're a [bleep]ing [bleep]. I'm going to destroy you."
Hilton had no comment when contacted for this story.

Scintilla! How marvelous. I guarantee that last part about the threat is true. I love how it says "when contacted" P had no comment. Which means they asked and she said "No comment." Which means that's true, too. We Pisces girls are jealous bitches! And exotic-looking European whores are our kryptonite.

MK is a Campbell Hall-raised Val. Stavros Whatsis is a huge gigantic Greek dude. I think we all know how this is gonna end.
Don't they look like Bea Arthur and Estelle Getty on their way to the Golden Girls stage? He's really skinny under those immense clothes. Look at his teensy delicate girl hands! These crazy kids love their TrimSpa.* His name is Stavros, which looks a little like it has the word "starve" in it. Perfecto! Hey malaka, Steff from "Pretty in Pink" called. He needs his white pants back. Losing them forever might just finally kill the old sonofabitch, Blaine.

Cameron's basically a Val (she went to Fairfax with Puma Man). So I almost feel bad using her pic to make myself feel better when I break out. Almost.

2 weeks to surgery! I start my new job on Friday, and The Captain and I might camp in Ojai with the Rubbles one night this weekend. Maybe we can convince Puma Man to come along. That is if he can take a weekend off his hectic psychotic bootay call schedule, his new barely-legal Russian war bride, and his back-2-Miami-bound mama. Work it all the way out, PM!
a la casa july 2005 101
I am Judge Mayblean's lime green satin collar.

Invention of the day:
A shower caddy that will hold my conditioner upside-down! It will feature adjustable grippy sleeves for 2 or 3 bottles. It will have another built-in grippy for my razor, to keep the moisturising strip on my Venus Divine dry. I have a lot of legs, so I need a lot of leg shaving lubricant.

That is all! Stay inside again today,'s like Afghanistan out there.

Bombed out and depleted!

*When we say TrimSpa, we mean cocaine. And when we say "we", we mean "me."

Monday, July 18, 2005

Closer to fat everydayyy (ahhh-ahhh)

I'm working on turning the terrace into a Four Seasons-style lanai. Like, when we used to hang out at the pool or beach at the resorts, there was always a cute little area to lay out and veg. I've got the wireless laptop and I'm tricking out the carpeted deck part. Developing! a la casa july 2005 042

Did you see Hogan Knows Best? Could Hulk Hogan BE a bigger asshole?! I hope his ugly son marries that poor little blonde hillbilly. I am Hulk Hogan's blinding steroid-rage induced jealousy.

Who does that cartoon remind me of?
Poor, poor Jani. He looks all old and clowny.

Valley forecast: Stay the hell inside,'s HOT! It's supposed to get up to 111 in Sherman Oaks today. The Galleria is your only hope.
a la casa july 2005 003
Happy Monday, bitches!

Why your daughter is too thin and dresses like a hobo

this is why your daughter looks like hell lindsayandnicoleee
Rachel Zoe Rosenzweig has been an L.A. scumbag/straw-haired bobblehead/stylist to the most coked-out since the late 80's. She's always been a total jackass...and now your daughter wants to look exactly like her! The L.A.T. profiled her in their Sunday style section. Here's an anorexic-size list of essentials from the crackhead Lindsay Lohan has made her style icon:
How to get the Rachel Zoe look:

Hair: Cut and color by Byron Williams at Byron Studio on Robertson Boulevard

Makeup: Sue Devitt Eye Intensifier Pencil in Tanzania and Gold Coast Bronzing Powder, both at Sephora stores

Jeans: Rock & Republic — cut off at the ankle, size 25

Jewelry: Anything gold from Kaviar and Kind on Sunset Boulevard, preferably layered pieces, but "keep only one item big"

Undergarments: Go braless

Exercise: None

Food: "The Stress Diet" ("If my life would settle down, I think I could put on some weight," Zoe says).

Shoes: Yves Saint Laurent, Alexander McQueen, Gucci and Balenciaga. No flats.

For dressing up: Anything Grecian and 1970s looking, preferably vintage Halston or YSL. Nothing above the knees ("I've got chicken knees," she says).

I'm utterly entertained, and the sun is barely up.

Friday, July 15, 2005


Later that night on the Matterhorn, he introduced his Grad Nite date to "Mike Hawk."

This dude is totally retarded. And en fuego.


Friday cake porn:
wedding cake ledas
Leda's cupcakes are the prettiest in the Valley...and I hear they really help people mend after shoulder surgery.

Happy Friday, bitches!

Wednesday, July 13, 2005

Semi-Pro Player Hater

It's natural for Vals to dislike hipsters. Our goal is to live well and look hot, theirs is to live among beer cans and look homeless.

So the other night, SLC Punk! was on. I've probably seen it 20's one of the only independent films I've ever enjoyed. But I didn't enjoy watching it this time. The recent proliferation of whiny Silver Lake hipster dirtbag-types has curdled my enjoyment of formerly crush-worthy Stevo, Stevo's Dad, and John the Mod. The hated indie crowd has officially wrecked hot punky here is me, venting.

Hipsters hate it when their shit gets popular.
Therefore, when trying to eradicate the smelly hipsters in your area, imitation is probably the quickest path to east side obscurity. Hipsters become enraged when outsiders adopt the trends they consider "theirs", because hipsters, as a rule, were dorks in high school. Angry dork rage is the only explanation for the ear-shatteringly bad music they listen to. So start rifling through the reeky thrift shops on Sunset at Sanborn. Try not to notice how much it smells like Iran on a hot summer afternoon in there. Bring ALL your Val friends, and be loud. Maybe the "artsy" locals (read: colorful crack smokers, pierced transcendental transgendered jackasses, and Elijah Wood) will be forced to shuffle their Chuck Tays back to the bleak hometown they incessantly whine about. Is it Seattle? Or on the east coast somewhere? Enough already! Yeah sounds great. Go back there and annoy them. Did grunge teach us nothing?

In my quest to rid the L.A. basin of hipsters, I offer the following advice to you, my sweet hot Valley bitches. Remember, hipsters are pussies by nature, and therefore easy to scare, so follow these tips and rid your hood of whiny alt-rockers!

5 Tips to Piss Off the Smelly Shag-Haired Scene Slave Near You:

1. Dress like you just robbed a Goodwill shop.

2. Talk about your "vinyl" (and don't mean your Faucci purse).

3. Listen to complaint-rock not endorsed by a label with more than ten grand on their ledger. There's a reason those incredibly cool bands don't have big money behind them: they all pretty much suck.

4. Sulk -- a LOT. You can do it. Flash on the day they leveled the Galleria. That shit always makes ME grouchy.

5. Ignore hygiene. Hipsters reek. Probably because they carry the B.O. ghosts of the 29 people who owned that filthy t-shirt before they rescued it from the reject pile at Pull My Daisy. Odds are, because they are so cool from the inside out, they aren't using deodorant, either. My grandma used to say, "the bigger the sideburns, the bigger the asshole." God rest her observant soul.

Yupsters Invade Venice: Developing
Venice, once home to hot/dangerous surfer/skater dudes...the one and only reason to venture over being overrun by industry-type yuppie hipsters. And the only thing worse than a broke hipster is a hipster with cash to burn. On one hand, I say great...the closer to the ocean, the quicker the post-quake tsunami will swallow them up, Gehry-remodeled canal-side showplaces and all. (Have you ever caught a whiff of the Venice canal? It's almost as rank as a dreadlocked dude in a T-Rex shirt.) On the other hand...screw it, on any hand...yupsters are vile. Read this hilarious piece in the NYO. I don't think ICM agent David Unger was being intentionally hilarious. Organic breakfast at Axe (pronounce it "AH-shay") on Abbott Kinney in the Aston. Jesus Christ. What a douche. Where are the Crips when you need them?
Blazin' Johnny Schwartz understands:
"It is important to acquire fashion in moderation. Being too fashionable is so not fashionable. But being so fashionable as to be un-fashionable is highly fashionable. Tread carefully, because being so unfashionable as to be fashionable is only fashionable if you are not so unfashionable as to actually be unfashionable."


They even look stinky!
Marc Bolan would totally crawl out of his stinky emo-grave to let me watch him wearily kick this dreadlocked wigger douchebag's eclectic ass.

The problem:
Dear Jesus, Please Place Earthquake Here. I Love You. Your disciple, Shannon
The solution:

I'm finished venting...for now. Mobilize, my ponchoed, jelly-soled Val minions.