Went to Boulevard Room on Thursday for UC’s first ever successful club night. Of course the only time UC ever threw a successful club night is the one night I don’t feel like clubbing. I would have left earlier had I not kept being handed drink tickets. Oh the drink tickets! We made friends with the bartender, Dr. Dread (he was wearing a doctors outfit and a dreadlock hat). Fuck there were a lot of Waldo’s there that night. Kind of destroys the purpose of being Waldo when there are so many. Apparently I missed the best part of the club, the smoking room, a heated patio with a rooftop and cedar walls that everyone kept referring to as “the sauna room.” Favorite costume of the night? A puck bunny. A girl in a Leafs jersey and bunny ears.
Also clubs should always have buckets of candy available.
So I saw the new Hilary Duff music video today and the first thing that I thought of was:
What’s with these bitches and Victorian couches? And her arch-nemesis’ video no less? I don’t mind Hilary Duff, though. She gets drunk and clubs just like every other barely legal pop star yet no one talks about it. She’s a sneaky bitch and I like that. The video is very Terry Richardson to me. It’s even got blindfolds and soft bondage. The song is just an epic failure, though. Personal Jesus has been sampled a thousand times before but no one has managed to as blatantly rip it off as Hilary did. It’s not even half-assed, its like one of those Britney Spears singles they put together in 5 minutes.
I saw this this morning. Tony Hawk’s already endorsed Bagel Bites and every other food beloved by stoners and latchkey children whose parents are too busy climbing the corporate ladder to make them an appropriate after school snack, so I’m not surprised, but shit Phelps, you’ve got 14 Olympic gold medals do you really need to lower yourself to this level?
Or better yet, this one?
And no, the fact that it was filmed on a private jet does not make up for what you’ve done.
Highly successful Eaton Centre trip this morning. No ridiculous line in Sephora. Amazingly got through Aritzia without being attacked by a salesperson or having to lock up my shit. Got a winter jacket and boots without pulling my hair out, it was absolutely amazing. I highly suggest going to B2, I’m in love with one of their sales associates. She has this amazing unplaceable accent and looked at me and went “look at you in your tights and your hot shorts! I used to dress like you in 1989!” and later “You’ve got the skinny legs for big boots. I love skinny legs with big boots because they just make you look skinnier and taller. When I see a big person in big boots, I want to tell them get skinnier boots! Make yourself look skinnier! OK seriously go there she made my day.
This playlist is rocking my world:
AC/DC – Thunderstruck Katy Perry – Hot ‘N Cold Lady GaGa – Beautiful Dirty Rich Bon Jovi – Living on a Prayer The Tragically Hip – New Orleans is Sinking Miley Cyrus – 7 Things Katy Perry – I Kissed a Girl The Tragically Hip – Bobcaygeon
Seriously, they work. I had to jump on the Katy Perry bandwagon. I’m so ashamed, but giving in feels so good. I heard Dawn playing Hot ‘N Cold last night and was like, goddamnit this is good. Of course, I Kissed a Girl was soon to follow. Whoever is writing the lyrics to these songs really needs to take a good look at themselves though. I would be ashamed. Its so brutally awful. Beautiful Dirty Rich is pretty fucking horrid. I’m still playing Just Dance with an insane frequency, but its no Just Dance. I only listen to the first 20 seconds because I like the part that goes “I’m so sorry Daddy, I’m so-so-sorry yeah. We just like to party like to p-p-party yeah.” New Orleans is Sinking always makes me want to swagger around. I LOVE the line in Bobcaygeon that goes “that night in Toronto, with its checkerboard floors, riding on horseback and keeping order restored.” And really, Thunderstruck and Living on a Prayer are always good. I’m just in one of those moods. I want to put on a shirt with the sleeves cut off and shotgun a beer. And simultaneously go clubbing wearing some lame leggings, and possibly hump an inflatable whale in a children’s pool.