I’ve been a mite disappointed with Zappos as of late, having not been compelled enough by their wares to make a purchase in nearly four months (although these would be the perfectly amusing complement to my housecoat for my upcoming Aruba trip). Meanwhile, Amazon’s Endless is endlessly bo-ring, with approximately four pairs of Naturalizer shoes and white puffy New Balance sneaks available to women with size 12 feet.

So, having just plunked down $300 for some shoes at Nordies (hello, love) –

Has anyone tried the Steve Madden make-your-own-shoe experiment? I think the Lamore or the Lusta would look hot in a deep red patent, but I noted that the Steve Madden store in Soho lacked swatches and I can’t tell how the wood heel options would match. Also, I don’t know how their 12 will size, and there are no returns (understandable, but for $150 …).

I will say, having big feet is slightly annoying, especially when you see all the deep discounts available to women with smaller under-standings. But then I can’t get too mad — yesterday I scored a pair of skinny size 29 Joe’s Jeans from Anthropopo for $19.99. (With thanks to Louis @ Coco & Delilah for turning me into a tight pants wearing whore. Next stop: Camel Toe, New Jersey. Who has the Vagisil?)

In other news, I kinda don’t want to do jello wrestling tonight. I’d rather curl up with my laptop and write, which I have been diligently avoiding all weekend along.

I mean, I’ll be there, tiger print outfit and ready to lumber.  (P.S. Don’t wash your jello goo getup with your other clothes — esp. dark ones — unless you want goo all over everything.)  But I’m going to have to psych myself up to git the job done.

Warning: This post is aggro.

So yesterday I check out the YAAMNY website. While there, I decide to post a blurb about jello wrestling, since the chick who owns Stain in Williamsburg keeps promoting her stuff there and some slumlord in Elmhurst is trying to charge jacked up rent. If these bozos are posting stuff, I’ll add my two cents. Spice things up a bit.

My post might get deleted by the God of YAAMNY so I’ll include the copy here:

Women’s Jello Wrestling
February 11, 2007 8:00pm-10:00pm
Don Hill’s
The Feminist Fight Club hosts a night of Amateur Female Jello Wrestling downtown, including THAIGRR, the jello wrestling alter ego of me (JE’99). Prepare to be abused. I mean, amused.

Posted By: ANP

Short, to the point, and it’s not like I’m selling tickets like all the theatre momos promoting their plays, and it’s not like I’m selling wine like Ms. Stain Bar. And I indicate my class year and college affiliation — stuff that most bozos off the street wouldn’t know about. You’d need to be in Da Club (yo, root canals is MAD EASY, yo!) to drop it like that.

Get back home tonight and there’s an email that transports ANP straight (back) to crazy-person land:

Hello ANP,

I just saw your yaamny post. Please confirm your year and Yale Affiliation or I’ll have to delete the post. In addition if you could expand on your post and include a bit more info to make it both informative and make sure it doesn’t look like spam that would be much appreciated.

Happy jello fighting.

best regards,

The Ass Munch a.k.a. The Self-Appointed YAAMNY president

If you’ve ever seen Jonathan Ames do his hoary call, that’s the noise I made on the inside when I read this email. Only, an angry version.

The email infuriates me on many levels. Allow me to divulge:

• This dude is supposed to be a Yale grad. One would assume that he WOULDN’T BE AN IDIOT. Clearly, I’m an ass.
• MY YALE AFFILIATION IS INDICATED BY THE JE’99 PORTION. WHAT PART OF JE’99 DO YOU NOT UNDERSTAND?
• Expand on my post? You mean, make it long and unwieldy like the other mongoloid posts cluttering up the boards? I’m sorry, but I’m an ONLINE MARKETING EXECUTIVE and I like my info SHORT AND SWEET. To the POINT. If they want more info they can CLICK THROUGH (no click left behind, my friends) to the WEBSITE that I have HYPERLINKED TO.
• SPAM? I’m sorry, when was the last time you read SPAM that was punny? Clever? Grammatically correct? And didn’t try to MAKE MONEY off of you?!?!
• Who the fuck appointed YOU King of New York Yale Alumni? I didn’t vote for your ass. And I’m reminded all over again of jack-a-napes IASMH self-appointed God. Shit, a “man” puts up a pizza box server and some klugey ass code and a .net domain suddenly thinks he’s God. Man, I’d set up my OWN damned website on principle if I had the friggin’ time!

(Clearing throat; switching to aristocratic voice.) Yes, quite. So, abandoning the all caps and creative punctuating from my inner monologue, I fire back my pissy email reply, which is entirely childish and yet entirely indicative of my annoyed mood:

Prez. YAAMNY -

Feel free to delete it if you’d like, since between my duties as class secretary, a member of the asian american yale alumni, a member of the yale crew alumni, an interviewer for yale, and a member of WISER (women varsity athlete alumnae) i don’t have time to make it look like not spam. if the JE 99 info isn’t enough (how about actually reading the post?) , and if people can’t read, then i don’t want them joining in.

JE. 1999. AS POSTED IN THE POST.

P.S. Your entire email kinda sucks. Since. Actually. You and I have met in person. And I find your entire email insensitive. And mind-boggling. Seriously. When was the last time you saw spam that actually had 1/4 of the personality in my post?

Consider me officially offended by your insensitivity and entirely un-amused. What on earth made you think it was spam? Seriously. As. If.

Annoyed, and I have to get up early and take my car to the shop, and I haven’t written one word for my homework assignment due tomorrow. And And And And

P.S. YAAMNY President for whose first name last name I have built this post to be search engine optimized: EAT IT. Seriously. Why don’t you try READING for a change. Don’t think I’m fooled by your “Happy Jello Fighting” bullshit. Admit it: it boggles your mind that someone with a Yale degree would be so inclined to jello wrestle. Don’t flatter your little .net that anyone’s trolling it in an attempt to spam it with well-crafted event listings.

Skeeriously.

From this week’s PostSecret:

If you’re a lady in the NYC area and you agree with this sentiment, then join me The ThaiGRR and jello wrestle in Dana Sterling’s fabulous feminist fight club.

If you just want to watch The ThaiGRR jump into a pool of jello, well, then, you can come too.

Sunday, February 11th, 2007
Amateur Female Jello Wrestling

at Don Hills
511 Greenwich Street (& Spring Street)
take 1/C/E train to Canal or C/E train to Spring
8pm show - 6:30pm “Wrestle Lesson”

Admission - Free if you Wrestle
$3 for girls who choose not to wrestle.
$7 boys who come with girls.
$15 for single guys (Get it? Bring a girl.)

Pictures from the January event

Time for some cleans & jerks. (Whilst sporting my housecoat, of course.)

Previously: The ThaiGRR’s re-cap of her debut

Does anyone know where I can buy some purty gloves for my man-hands?

I want them trim (no bulky beefy man stuff), long (two inches past my wrist), and appropriate for wearing as I fondle my leather-wrapped stick shift and steering wheel.

And in fun colors (lipstick red, bright purple, fluorescent pink) would be ideal.

Sank you.

Yes, it’s the Onion. And, as I learned ten years ago when I got off the Amtrak to stretch my legs in Minot, ND and saw a copy for the very first time, the Onion is satire. But this one’s still funny:

Area Man Accidentally Responds to Own Craigslist ‘M4M’ Ad

“He lives right in my neighborhood, he’s a professional, and he loves to work out—he sounds sexy.”

Good thing I bid adieu to online dating, particularly of the Craigslist variety. Cuz dag.

Portrait by Yian Huang

I sink I sound pooty sexy too.

Stop fighting against things you can’t fix. Accept things as they are and smile.

O, horoscope. They may say you’re an abstract noun, all inanimate and shit. But I think I can take you.

BY THAIGRR

(Translation by ANP)

GOAL: SHOW WHITE PEEP OR ASIAN WOMAN NOT SUBMIT. ARE SO, MUST NOT DISLESPECT OWNER. DANA. DANA WHITE. SO, CHARRENGE.

(My goal was to illustrate to white people that Asian women are not necessarily submissive. However, this was a delicate balancing act as the owner, Dana, is white. Hence, my conundrum.)

FULST MATCH, AGAINST, BALE A CUDA. VELLY SMARR. ARE SO, NOT WANT MAKE GULL ROOZ FACE. SO SMARR. COME UP TO MY BLESSEDS.

(My first match was against The Barracuda. She was very short, and I felt bad making such a small girl lose face. She was only as tall as my pectoral area.)

SO, RET GULL WIN. GET NEXT TIME. NOT DIFFICURT.

(So, I let her win in an act of grace. But I’ll get her next time. It won’t be difficult.)

SECOND MATCH, ANGLY. WHITE MAN RYE, TEAR ME NINJA ASIAN. I JOIN PAN ASIAN ARRIANCE OF DOOM. ZEN I SEE, NINJA, NOT ASIAN. ROOK WHITE. MAYBE MIX RATINA. NOT KNOW. SO GLUDGE MATCH.

(By my second match, I was angry. A white man lied to me, and told me that the wrestler that he managed was Asian. Against my better judgment, I trusted this white man and joined his Pan-Asian Alliance of Doom. Then, during her match, her Ninja mask is removed and I discover that she is not, in fact, Asian. She’s either white, or perhaps mixed Latina. I’m not sure, but I do know that it was important that she and I have a grudge match.)

RATINA MUST EAT FOOD MAKE BIG. LEAD BEANS. LICE. I ARE SO ROOZ. NOT MATTER. STLATEGY.

(Due to the superior body mass index of the Sorta Rican, perhaps driven by a different diet including staples such as red beans and rice, I also lose this match. But this doesn’t concern me. Strategically, it’s important to have your opposition underestimate your abilities.)

DULLING ERIMINATION LOUND, I LESSER SCHOOR GULL, RIKE RORITA. LEVENGE, AS SHE CHEAT OFF MY MASS HOMEWULK. I TLY TO KICK X Y Z AXIS. NOT WORK.

(I wrestled The School Girl during the elimination round, hoping to avenge the disrespect she showed me by cheating off of my math homework. However, my attempts to kick her XYZ axis were unsuccessful.)

NEXT TIME: MOLE STUDY. MOLE RAT PURRDOWN. MOLE LUNNING STAILS IN FOLT GLEENE PALK.

(In anticipation of the next competition (2/11), I will study, do some lat pulldowns, and increase the frequency of running stairs in Fort Greene Park.)

SANK YOU VELLY MUCH. PUHREEZ COME LESSER NEXT TIME. GO HEAL MOLE INFO. MOLE ASIAN. COME JOIN TEAM. DOMINATE!

(Thank you very much. Please come wrestle next time. And if you are Asian, please join my team, so that we can dominate!)

NOW MUST GO, FLENCH TV STATION, CHANNER 2, JUST ALIVE FOR INTELVIEW AT BANK, GLATEST COMPANY IN WORD.

(I must go now, as French TV station channel 2 has just arrived for my interview at The Bank, the greatest company in the world.)

Previously: Jello wrestling re-cap

There’re so many things to say that there is nothing to say. I do want to alert my readers that a new contributor will be joining Chez xoxoANP! soon: Thaigrr. An amateur Jello wrestler whose appellation, unbeknownst to him, was coined by none other than Florida-based director / film editor Bradley P.Q. Bryan, I felt it important to allow Thaigrr a forum in which to share her experiences unmediated to the public.

February 11th we take this thing a bit further west to a larger venue. Stay tuned for more info.

And, since she’s bit modest and not so agile with the keyboard, I will say that Thaigrr’s first foray into the world of Jello wrestling was met with:

• a Reuters interview
• an interview by some French television show
• mad photographs. And some happy ones.
• cheers on Stanton by her newest female fans

All you ladies need to seriously, seriously consider joining next time. (Unless you are a Leo; I’d hate to see you with a mussed coiff.) It’s crazy fun: part sport, part theatre, and 100% kick ass.

Previously:

• Jello wrasslin‘
• Add these to your bland new planner

Tonight I implore you to join me in watching the best-est television show ever, the Ashton Kutcher spawn “Beauty & The Geek.” (Moment of silent love for Ashton Hot-Ass Kutcher, please.) While watching, try and guess which native Montana geek my dear Friendster with the hottest ass-et in Billyburg may have scooted her gorgeous lips towards.

I kinda wish they had a show where the women were the geeks. But until then, I have crazy love for this show.

Tomorrow (Thursday) the fine folks of the .com formerly known as Blink are assembling to toast the sale of BlinkPro, the best bookmarking slash potential artificial intelligence engine ever. After which perhaps I’ll catch Freedom Writers with a bucket of Kleenex in my lap.

Which reminds me. Memorandum to New York Stock Exchange:

Saturday I was considering heading over to SinE to check out all this shoegaze lurfe effective 8:30 p.m. Anyone want to join? Relay, Daylight’s For The Birds, and Mahogany all seem like my speed (circa 1993 - 1997, but whatevs).

Sunday, after I attempt to add some marketing value to homeboy Mossm’s baby, I. Wrestle. Jello. Props to Priscilla for her good luck vibes:

Not only can she write, but I hear that homegirl is starting to jello wrestle. Hello! Is this mic on? I’m telling you that this modelesque biracial brainy chick is going to voluntarily wrestle in some jello. Too freaking cool. Anyway, I would wish for her the championship belt of jello wrestling. If there is one.

I would love to have some supporters in the audience, because after having tried on my wrestling outfit I know that there will be little to no support for my heaving, well-proportioned, full bosom.

Time to consider making some chicken snarf a bowl of Greek yogurt with honey before settling my sit bones into my Poang for sixty minutes of televised briss.

In basketball, as in life, if you’re runnin’ the baseline, you might as well sit your ass on the bench.

I don’t mean cutting-hard, setting-picks, posting-up-strong kinda runnin’ the baseline. I mean just running back and forth like a jack-a-lack trying to look busy but completely not there for your teammates since your ass ain’t open and it’s by design kinda runnin’ the baseline.

You wanna not be a sucka? Post. Up. Hard.

And be ready for the pass. You never know when the moment’ll happen and guess what? The clock is tickin’.

(/meta4)

Last week The Sharxxx avenged our mid-December loss by beating Class Act 33-13. Tomorrow night (Tuesday, December 9th) we (1-1) take on Shake It (1-1) at Hunter College, 68th & Lex, west building, gym B-4, left court. 8:10 p.m.  You know what number I’ll be wearing. And bring me some lemon lime gatorade, please. It’s hard sitting on the bench and missing all your shots!