anyway i bet some of you wonder what girls talk about. if "sex and the city" is to be believed, four women getting together for a few drinks will talk about their baby urges, their perfect man, the awesome or horrifying sex they had last night, and the like. although this is sometimes the case (earlier in the day i admit i was discussing my sincere urge to botox my forehead into oblivion), here is a list of the actual topics we covered. list and learn:

¥ farts and how/where to fart at work
¥ wet farts and what to do in case of "accidental fudging" at work
¥ exploding butts (related to the scourge of hovering)
¥ "textbook vaginas"
¥ missing areolas

i call this exhibit a: girls are nasty. exhibit b, sort of: when betsy was here we were all fascinated by her tales of the way in which chinese children poop. apparently it happens in the street, through pants designed with a slit in the crotch-to-butt area so that the sweet little things can simply squat and go. which is just...completely fucking weird! now, i can't believe that betsy did not see fit to discuss this on betsygoestochina.com, but she didn't, and so i feel it is my duty (doody?) to reproduce here what she sent to a few select receivers of some priceless photographic evidence of the fact that BABIES IN CHINA RUN AROUND WITH THEIR STUFF JUST HANGING OUT. ahem:

GROSS!!!!! okay. just had to get that out there.

this is the sweetest, saddest thing, and a nice testament to the love people have for their pets: you're a good dog, barsuk, and we love you. [via stereogum]

thanks to brad m., christine v., maura, and anyone else who donated or plans to donate to my revlon run/walk fund. i've raised almost $800. walking commences tomorrow, disgustingly early in the morning. get your dollars in here. thanks again!

oooh also: don't forget to support protestors and attend this benefit sunday afternoon at the knitting factory. go go go!

maybe it's mean and wrong but i don't care: william hung's voicemail is funny as hell.

cormi alerts me to a rockin' loretta lynn tune (jack white-produced, ya know?) up on said the gramphone. it's called "have mercy" and it totally justifies the hype surrounding this release. having heard that and "portland, oregon", i absolutely must buy this album now. excitement.

love me some dnasty: happy std awareness month! an excerpt: "Welcome, CNN, to 2004, where people are so freaked out by terrorists and their own government that they don't need or want to be reminded of the myriad microscopic vermin poised and waiting with teeth of steel to destroy their gonads."

i guess this is cool, right? take home a recording of the show you just attended on a little keychain hard drive. at maxwell's next month!

news flash: seventeen editor really loves shrimp. all the news that's fit to print, people. SHRIMP. next up in the atoosa series: an article all about what kind of toilet paper atoosa prefers to wipe her ass with. the new york times will have this information for you very soon, i'm sure.

many hilarious lines in these letters of gary benchley, rock star on williamsburg and blog parties. genius.

dude auctions off ex-wife's wedding dress: "I gotta say it did make me feel very pretty." [via tale of two cities]

sirenfest lineup announced. death cab is the headliner? gotta say ehhhh. boring. in fact i don't think many of those bands are going to translate well to the hot streets of coney island. i'm looking forward to seeing the fiery furnaces, though, since i love their album. and i think there is at least one other band on the list of "and many more" that will be a welcome addition....

thank you to my new gbv-loving friend ann for striking a blow against cancer; you can too, you know.

the club is CLOSING. i know that it's for the best, and bob will continue to write and record and possibly tour, but it's still a little bit sad. they're one of the best live bands around, and even though i've seen them 15 times it's never enough. the idea of bob on a stool with an acoustic guitar seems really strange. let's face it: acoustic guitar sucks. we like loud electric guitars at catherine's pita. but at least i know my new years is going to rock.

the show saturday night was really good, even though they spent like the first hour playing new stuff. bob had some funny ramblings, including a hilarious story about henry rollins that included a henry rollins scream. i didn't really take the "we will go out in a blaze of fire" talk seriously (though it did sound a bit strange), because it was so funny: "we are the kings of indie rock. when we quit, indie rock will die." plus, there was more rocking to be done! anyway, now i'm excited for the next (last) album, even though the last couple have been kind of disappointing, because bob says it is good enough to be the final album and also because at least one of the new songs sounded amazing. great, fun show. and i met some fun gbv fans who dragged me kicking and screaming, sans randi, to lit and made me stay there till closing. one word: t-rashed.

don't forget to help me kick cancer's ass. i think i could actually reach my "goal" here if people keep contributing. a salty salute to the latest donors, metascene fred and ana m., for their generous donations.

and now i must do some work. but here is a special treat for you: my first, very random video, taken friday night as i made beer cuffs and listened to the new les savy fav. and took pictures of my cat. here is sweet little xena phoebe, space warrior, by request:

i think i have mentioned before that sometimes when i go home, my brother steve and i like to take a drive through the great adventure safari. i always hope the monkeys will jump on the car and fuck shit up, so i cannot imagine my glee were a rhino to try and hump the car. [via tale of two cities]

founder of "cuddle parties" wants to "create a safe environment for men and women to touch, be touched and love one another in a healthy and nutritious way"; is also total tool.

your lawmakers at work: louisiana may ban low-slung pants.

who doesn't like a nice smile? [via traveler's diagram]

we're doing pretty well on the cancer-walk front, closing in on four hun. i think we can do better though. thanks to joel from chicago and kurt the roommate for their recent donations. those who have not yet donated are encouraged to do so. come on, it's tax-deductible!

pitchfork jizzes all over the new les savy fav. i can't believe i don't have this already.

kirk cameron wants to know: are you a good person?

and i want to know: is anyone, o anyone, interested in seeing deerhoof tomorrow at northsix with me?

this guy takes those amazing new york times aerial photographs that you just stare and stare at: behold vincent laforet.

all of you who looked at me with horrified looks on your faces when i told you my taxes got returned for lack of postage can rest easy: ain't no penalty. i still blame my accountant for using the extra-large envelopes.

i just found out that this is tv turnoff week. if only i'd known. i might not have watched all three hours of what lies beneath last night. (is it wrong that i actually enjoyed it and screamed several times?)

i read this hilarious thing involving a pair of roommates, a couch, and a trucker hat, and i looked at the clock and it was almost time to go! genius! [via matos]

okay so all these peace activists are probably getting unusually harsh sentences for crimes committed during a protest, crimes that normally receive a slap on the wrist. it's quite likely that the prosecutors want to make an example of these folks to deter protesters at this summer's republican national convention. which is fucked up. right? right. anyway, there's a benefit show vanessa is putting together to raise funds for the protesters. it's at knitting factory, sunday, may 2, and it features jimmylegs' band, motico, among several other bush-hating bands. (that is, george bush-hating bands.)

we got a little violent at hi-fi last night. if you like that sort of thing, there are more.

sloppy kisses to today's donors: pita designer sdh, leanne milway, reader sal. come on people, get your charity on!

dudes: celebrity bake sale on rivington tomorow!

in other news, it is now spring. spring lasts for about two days in new york, so enjoy it while it lasts. it'll be ninety degrees by monday and we'll all be sweating like pigs.

and the actual fun link of the day is this dude's awesome funny drawings: toothpaste for dinner.

it was just like 2002 again last night, with holly and i listening to our old roommate justin tell very long (but funny) stories punctuated by very loud laughter. he lives in london now, the lucky so-and-so. i really like this shot holly took of me taking a picture of us.

big thank yous to run/walk donors traveler's diagram, listen missy, eileen, reader lauren, and former boss stephanie. i am thinking of going on a pita strike until i get more donations. you don't want that to happen, now, do you? okay, there are too many party pictures for that to happen (betsy has landed on our shores!), but do please donate.

holy coca-cola, modest mouse hit #19.

spike jonze "in full canoodle" with karen o? what? what happened to angus? they don't love him like she loves him! [via gawker]

i think the most exciting moments of my jersey weekend were seeing the previews for "the stepford wives" and m.night's next movie, "the village." most laughs per minute award goes to "the ladykillers." the why-did-we-see-this award goes to "the alamo." don't go see "the alamo."

kelefa sanneh writes about modest mouse. he is still retarded.

jay-z mixed with pavement.

aha: that new old 97s record will come out on new west records.

teary modest mouse story, via largehearted boy.

pitchfork interviews james mercer of the shins and sticks it to poor little slumping ben kweller.

There's been a lot of drug abuse. The only drugs I've ever actually written any music on are pills, pot, and alcohol. Acid or coke, you can't write songs on that shit. I kind of regret how much I did drugs. There was a point in time when it seemed like a good plan, but it probably wasn't. Especially inhalants, and shit like that?I think I was a bit brighter before I did that. Inhalants and meth were probably the two things that totally fucking screwed me out of some brain cells.

i have no idea where he got this from, but chromewaves is reporting that there will be a new old 97s album called "drag it up" (uh) in stores on june 29. according to some old news on old97s.com, as of the halfway point in recording, it was "shaping up as a bit of a throwback to Wreck Your Life-era content but with a much fuller sound, and less poppy than both Fight Songs and Satellite Rides." less poppy is definitely good. as is less lovey-dovey bullshit, more mudholes getting stomped in hearts. let's keep our fingers crossed.

i have had an unlikely amount of fun with the subservient chicken today. it will mosh, rock out, get a drink, hide, even cartwheel for you. just don't tell it to do anything dirty. not that you would.

exclusive! josh homme knows how to throw a punch, according to eyewitness bill werde. speaking of scary dudes, last night i was in the gym, stretching, while some dude i had never seen before was kickboxing the punching bag in a way that indicated either that he had a rough day or that he had some serious issues. i mean he was kicking the shit out of that punching bag. i don't mind telling you: it was hot. now, what is an appropriate pickup line in this case? all i could think of was, "boy, no one is going to rape you, huh?" and somehow i don't think that is quite right.

thanks to my able and possibly wily accountant, a new indulgence for me this year, i will be receiving a cool grand for my tax refund (minus wily fee, of course). HELLO NEW COMPUTER! any computer-buying advice, especially mac-related, please please please bring it on.

new mclusky album in may! singer uses phrase "cocking fantastic" in interview. so lovable.

oh my god. leanne just alerted me to the fact that beck has married a pregnant, frizzy-haired f-list actress who is a retarded scientologist and also the twin sister of longtime hottie giovanni ribisi. i weep.

julian casablancas appears to be copping a little bit of the drunk-ass bob pollard stage-style: "let's go get subs...nick and i used to get subs for lunch in high school, you remember that? these guys, we love each other, man, we're 5 guys from new york city and i fucking love these guys and we used to get subs." replace "get subs" with "go drinking" and "new york city" with "dayton, ohio" and you'll see what i mean.

jeff tweedy in rehab.

all right, that's the last of the eileen birthday buzz. we danced to the kooky bulgarian music, we got surprised by cute boys we met in the taxi line at the airport, we had monster hangovers the next day.

you are going to want to click on these: san francisco photo shoots. this is not no digicam bullshit, neither. these are gorgeous photos taken with a fancy film camera, one that takes square photos i might add. if you are pressed for time, i humbly present my favorite three (starring ME of course). thanks john!

gideon yago talks to john kerry.

funny, sad, wrong, or all of the above? william hung sings "i believe i can fly." off his ALBUM. [thanks stereogum]

after we sang happy birthday to eileen and ate the cake, some dude dumped about 50 village voice lighters and pins advertising this summer's siren fest, to take place on july 17, on our table. i tried to get some information out of him, but he refused. i persisted, and he asked where i worked, and then after i told him he refused again. i don't get it. am i too press-y, or not press-y enough? annoying. chris and i then set about filling our pockets with free lighters for no reason whatsoever.

maura on the scourge of hovering. i say right on! for i am a non-hoverer, and i think all you hoverers are silly prisses. unless you wipe up after you hover, in which case, be as prissy as you want. i just wonder why. like, do you have a lot of open sores on your asses that are going to admit pee-borne diseases? just wondering.

i love the new york press for ripping on sofia coppola and david cross in its 50 most loathesome new yorkers feature. but tale of two cities' take on the subject is way more entertaining: 10 most loathsome new yorkers you know.

slatch has radio too. listen to some bonnie prince palace shit.

ryan adams: shut up already.

does anybody really care about kinja? why do i need to know the instant lockhart steele posts a new restaurant review or lindsay gets a new high-dea? when i feel like attending a snark party i'll hit up TMFTML, and when i feel like seeing some embarrassing celebrity photos i'm all about whatevs. and i'll read them in the form they're intended to be read in -- on their own sites. i don't want people reading the pita on some other site. it's about context. furthermore, this, from the inevitable times article, kind of blows my mind: "the site is designed for people who may have heard about weblogs but are not sure how to start reading them, said nick denton." oh boy. i don't even know where to begin with that one. can someone start a website for me?

everybody wish a hearty happy-happy to eileen! holly has a little interview with her up on her site, as eileen is turning the big 3-0. holly also reports random emails from strangers are strangely pleasing: "this blog stuff is fun!"

i really, really want to do with crafts with adam kempa. check out his insane mix-cd packaging tutorial.

sad story of a filmmaker's work destroyed, via the rub, who has a pretty cool streaming radio playlist that he changes weekly. this one has a totally weird, absolutely essential cover of "hey ya." sweet. and catbirdseat's april mp3 mix is ready for your consideratioon, too.

the last track off the new bob pollard joint, 'fiction man,' #30 in the fading captain series, is available for download: "their biggest win." you can find it may 3 at the finest record stores in the land. really cool album cover, too.

rolling stone's "immortals" issue: worth reading? i don't know. i'm too busy to bother. but shirley manson's take on patti smith (not online) is possibly worth the cover price.

oh my god, i love tricia. her entry yesterday contains a picture of a child pooping in the street and a completely coincidental meeting of my other friend in the far east, betsy.