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from Saturday, January10th of the year2009.

So last week, I was in Los Angeles and needed to buy gifts. One of the many reasons I fear LA so much is because you can’t STROLL and buy stuff; you have to make a whole Agenda and drive from place to place and deal with parking and whatever else. I hauled my cookies to Barneys, which was a complete bordello of fabric and screaming; it was two days after Christmas and everything was on MegaSj├║per Sale. I witnessed one of the best pieces of language. There were these two really tall, really outrageous sort of voguey dudes in noisy shoes clicking and clacking up the stairs, and when they got to the top the following thing happened:

[Sees the huge banner saying 70% off]

[Sees the huge swarm of people shopping]

[They make their way through the crowd and discover that all the sizes left on the rack are XL and XXL and/or dumb pink Dolce & Gabbana things.]
Oh, Girl.

Mm, so efficient. It reminded me of that amazing exchange posted on Gawker a few years ago, excerpted below:

That’s that bartender that does porn.

Do she?

She do. Darren is all ga-ga for him.

I don’t like redheads.

Me neither, but he’s got a big dick.

Oh, do she?

She do. You ready for another vodka soda?

In other news, did anybody see this photo blog detailing what happened when some people in London tried to make a spice cake out of the pilfered contents of Keira Knightley’s trash bin?

The original plan was to use them to make a bunch of dishes with Keira Knightley-themed names, but “Pirates Of The Caribbean Jerk Chicken”, “Yoghurt and Atonemint Dressing”, “Pride and Breadjudice” and “Bend It Like Beck-Honey-Glazed-Ham” didn’t really call for any of the stuff she’d thrown out. And all of that seemed like too much work, so I decided to just add a spoonful of everything (including aftershave) to the simplest recipe I could find in Nigella Lawson’s How to be a Domestic Goddess: Madeira Cake (Makeira cake?).

It goes on to show pictures of horrified-looking people nearly vomiting.


  • That scene you described from your Barney’s visit reminds me of why I sometimes hated working there. The customers were usually great. but the idea of those crowds and all those odd (fat) sizes that never move is a nightmare.

  • Yeah, the people in London making the spice cakes out of spices from someone’s trash can are just out to become famous. Their whole goal is to be horribly ironic and what not. They’re all soooo ridiculously cool and they know it.