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The morning after

Pitcher of appletinis (above)


Another pitcher, above, in case you didn’t get the joke and need me to beat it into the ground

appletinis being poured into the bottom of what appears to be a giant tennis shoe

appletinis for your car

So how do I feel about last night’s appletini, you are likely wondering? I deeply regret it. Not for physical reasons—I feel fine, if a little chagrined/horrified—but for matters of self-respect. Do I think I’m better than people who drink appletinis? Pretty much, yes. Appletinis are the drink equivalent of “okay dokey smokey” or “okeley dokely” or “easy peasy japanesey” (no offense to the Pacific Rim) or “right on” or maybe “sweeeeeet” in that you say them making fun of them and then one day you wake up and they’ve actually wormed their way into your vocabulary in earnest and also, you’re that asshole drinking an appletini—which started as a joke because it sounds funny—but man if it doesn’t go down easy peasy. [Note: no one actually adds “japanesey,” that was just for effect.]

Okay, I have to be honest: I never said “okay dokey smokey,” but I did have a problem with “okay dokey.” I think my sister the plant-name stealer did too. I’m reminded of one of my favorite stories, courtesy of one Steve Lowery, who had taken to saying “nighty night” to his kids and heard himself end an interview with a sports legend that way. I forget who the sports legend was of course, because I don’t know sports. Um, Mr. Pigskin? Sherman Bleachers? Doug Dugout? You see what’s happening don’t you? I’ve lost my sense of humor. This is kind of tragic actually, because I was counting on it for the weekend.

Also, I miss the big hair. It had kind of grown on me, literally! And without it I looked so smushed headed and dare I say fat-faced, because (shall I let you behind the curtain? okay then!) whilst in California I got my hair straightened (just the roots or the “regrowth” as it’s called in straightening circles), which is a little thing I do like having my personal assistants shot, for those of you reading all the posts, which results in flat hair (the straightening, not the assistant shooting). It’s why, I think, it poofed up so much the time before last (like poofed up in between when it was styled and when I went on air) and why, since they didn’t want it as big last night, it was kind of stuck to my head. That didn’t make much sense to you did it? My sense of humor along with ability to explain myself have been replaced with a swirling appletini. Let me try again: In its now unnatural natural state, my hair is quite flat. Because the texture is especially fine, it responded extremely well to the poofing last time, so much so that the walk to the newsroom kind of inflated it. Last night though, I think there was less poofing than usual, thus it was stuck to my head. Oh my God, who cares! I’m not even reading this anymore! I mean, seriously. Shall we take a look?

Delightfully big!

Robust!

pequeno

Did I mention I like to lapse into Spanish when talking about my hair?

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0 Responses to The morning after

  1. Donny Bohac April 26, 2008 at 10:30 am #

    Since you were talking about acronyms last night. Stealth edits FTMFW, eh? (“For The Motherfucking Win.”)

    I’m referring to your changing of the “Blech” and “Yuck” to pequeño — by the way, holding ALT, pressing 0241 on the number pad, and releasing ALT gives you an ñ.

    Do they make Appletinis at Applebee’s? I think my roommate’s girlfriend ordered one once. I tried something that looks just like it and it sucked. I remember dousing my tongue with salt just to get rid of the aftertaste it left.

    I like your flat hair. I don’t know which I like better, per sé (ALT+0233), but you don’t look “fat-faced” with it.

  2. Anonymous April 26, 2008 at 1:46 pm #

    OK, I will admit that when I first saw you last night on Red Eye, I was a little miffed that you didn’t have the fat hair look. I really think your big fat hair look is super duper sexy! I guess it’s just cuz I had this fantasy of meeting you with fat hair. I sometimes imagine that I am at an El Torrito, and you walk in with some of your friends, and all of you are in your fat hair. You come up to me, and say, “move it, you are in my spot.” *sigh*

    Toddrod

  3. Ted from Accounting April 26, 2008 at 9:55 pm #

    Note to self: Add some poof for future art projects!

    WTF is an appletini anyway?

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