Squawk

A quick post about a busy weekend. Friday Jason and I took pictures in Riverside park. Mostly of me, but some of him as well. The one to my left is (obviously) one of me. I think it's funny because it looks like my arms are a million miles long, like Plasticman or Freddy Krueger. Paulie thinks the expression on my face is funny. He says it looks in the picture like I'm blind and that I'm floating or something. Looking at the rest of the pictures, though, I'd have to say that I find myself unusual-looking.

Saturday I went from gwibble to gwabble and in between, starting off the morning in Jersey City, moving to Park Slope in the afternoon and then gwangling around SoHo later, before heading home. By the end of the day my CD was finished and another project nearly done. And Sunday I continued with that other project, and now it's done too. Add in the fact that my column was due over the weekend, and you have a lot that I accomplished. Yay!

And apart from that, I just don't have a lot to squawk about.

BEEP 2:

Beep!
Ed Shepp

Read it. Buy it. Hear it. Buy it. See it.

Five Beep

It's beautiful outside today. You know what? Spring is beautiful in New York, I gotsta say it! All the flowers and flowering trees everywhere, and the new green on the other trees--it rocks! Today is a good day.

And for some good news: I finished recording my 5th CD (entitled Five)! YAY! So now just a couple more steps to do and I can get it out there to the world. I uploaded a couple pieces from it to my soundclick: Pigfucker [lyrics] (they automatically censored the title), about renaming someone who's a bastard, and Le C Est Pour Chatte [lyrics], the "French radio mix" of The P Is for Pussy. Send it to all your French-speaking frienz. Go on, send it! So that's what I uploaded. Also on the CD is Swamp, Daria Cayne Modeling Academy and If U Wanna Party, Come on Out and Dance and If U Wanna Dance, Come on Out and Party, which I'll probably rename before printing the CD labels. So that's the 411 on that!! Beep! (Oh yeah, the image above is one of Mark Baratelli's prototype designs for the cover of Five--check out the rest of them here.)

Weekend recap: This weekend was horrible! Healthwise, that is. Friday night I went to Whole Foods in Time Warner Center late, right before they closed. I got some groceries, but I also got some of those shrimp they have under heat lamps near the aisles. I've eaten them before, and they're generally pretty dried out and unpalatable by the end of the night, so I only got a few, in case they were gross. But Friday they weren't dried out at all! They were moist and soft and delicious! I ate those and had this yogurt probiotic-type drink I love so well at the same time. Well, later that night I developed painful gas pressure in my entrails, which wouldn't go away and wouldn't escape. So what did I go? All the wrong things. Did I got to get Gas X? No--I thought it would go away, and I didn't want to get outta bed. Did I take a few caffeine pills in the morning, thinking that, because caffeine has a laxative effect it would move everything outta my stomach? Yes. Did I take a fiber pill, thinking that would further increase BM potential? Yes. Wrong, wrong and wrong.

OK, I dunno about the first one--the Gas X. I don't know if taking it would've helped. But the caffeine and fiber were no-nos. I should have realized that the caffeine would just irritate my stomach (it increases acid production) and the fiber would just produce further gas. So anyway, all day Saturday my belly swelled with gas (literally--it hurt to pull in my belt!) which progressively got more painful, in spite of the Gas X and charcoal that I took. By the end of the day it was burning, at which point I realized that caffeine + virtually no food all day long = a very acidic stomach, so I got some antacids and an acid reducer, and after I took those felt much better, but still rather like a stretched-out balloon from the gas. Sunday I was a li'l better but still sore. I may have been sore from some cramping, or it may have been the ileocecal bowel massage thing that someone showed me once and I tried to do (supposedly it's supposed to get gas out); I think I did it wrong. Anyway, now I'm much better (just in time for the work week, of course). So that was my food poisoning experience for the weekend.

Here's another experience I had over the weekend: I was at Strand on 12th street, and someone asked me 'Do you work here?' I'm taking that to mean that I look like a 22-year old hipster. Of course, someone also asked me that same question at some garden store on Sunday, and I know I don't look Mexican (like the workers there), so I'm not sure what to make of that. Maybe it just means that I look knowledgable and authoratative. Yeah, that's it.

And that's pretty much the beep for now.

Beep!
Ed Shepp

Read it. Buy it. Hear it. Buy it. See it.

Petits Blips Ganoozs

OK, blips about peeps & stuff. OK for Colin Farrell! I'm not sure if I really buy the whole trying-hook-up-with-a-70-year-old bit, but you never know, and I really hope it's true. Cux think about how uplifting it is if it is true: If Colin Farrell wants a 70something woman, then every one of us, old/young/male/female/whatever has a chance!! Colin Farrell has democratized beauty! Or sex! Or whatever! He's democratized something, and I say YOU GO, BOO! YOU MY BOO! BOO! What I think happened was that he bust into this woman's dressing room and offered to give her some of it, but hid her vaginal moisturizer, so when she couldn't find it, she kept turning him down, deciding to wait for a better time. And he did this just so the story would get out and everyone would love him for the sexual panthingist that he's pretending to be. And hey, if his stunt makes people start wanting to hook up with people 30-40 years their senior, then he's already done some good in this world. Hmmm, I wonder if it was some kind of community service, maybe some kind of karmic community service. And if that's the case, that must mean he's got Buddha's unlisted number or something. Hey, does that mean that if I come on to someone really way old that I'll get good karma? Hmmm, maybe I'm overreaching here. But you know what? You know how that book says that if you think of committing a sin, then you've already committed it in your heart? Well, I bet it goes both ways, right? So by thinking of offering it to someone really old, I've already done it in my heart, so I should get the karma points! YES! Thanks, Buddha! (I actually came up with this theory a few days ago when I was walking home and passed this woman who was checking every pay phone on the street for a leftover quarter; I thought to myself, 'Damnz, I should just give the beeyotch the change I just got.' I almost did, but that would involve reaching into my pocket and what not, and I was soooo tired, so pfft. But I realized after I didn't do it that if I thought it, then I did it in my heart, so I should get universe points for that. Or something.) But back to Colin, who obviously I would call Colleen if I knew him persionally: What say everyone about this news bit? Do you think it really happened? Are Irishmen just such horndogs that they'll bump anything? Should I be surfing orbit for trips to Dublin?

The opposite of Colin Farrell (when he looks good; I saw a pic of him where he looked kinda puffy) would be the current incarnation of Tobey Maguire. Damnz he's FAT! I love it, though. I just wish he'd do some kind of spread in People or Us or Vanity Fair while he's still a fat, gambling addict. Maybe Hayden Xtensen could show up with his greasy self. I just think it'd be cool if he had a huge (!) portfolio of him while he's all fat. Firstly, it would just make for cool-looking art in the right hands, and I'm available if you're reading this, ________ (insert name of Vanity Fair editor here). But secondly, seeing Tobey Maguire all fattified warms the heart of the American public. We don't feel so fat and disgusting and bereft of willpower as we usually do. I love it. Thank you, Tobey, for that unselfish gift!

Another overdue item: Kelly Clarkson. I forgot to mention that I saw that rerun of her on Saturday Night Live. Or maybe I didn't forget, but I think I did. From Ed to Kelly: please, gursh, get control of your hair. Ditch the blond and go red, cux you look so much like Debra Messing anyway, and she's really pretty. Just look like her. As for how she sounded, interestingly, she didn't sound good on the songs she did, but in the skits she was, of course, phenomenal. And the biatch can act too! Coolznerzbot!

Well, I could yak about cheerleaders and buginda roast coffee, but I don't think this midday coffee has enough of a kick to get me through allz of that, so I'm just finna declare this the beep for now, beeplets.

Beep!
Ed Shepp

Read it. Buy it. Hear it. Buy it. See it.

My Favorite Heidi

If you want to know Heidi Klum's secret for staying thin, try her Favortie Candies. I think I know why she likes them as candies: they're gross. And therefore she doesn't eat as much. I tried them, and I concur. I believe the first word out of my mouth, delivered to a nearby bluebird who inquired in a tweet how they were, was: Disgusting. In fact, I think she said as much in a press conference: "These are my favorite candies, because they taste so nasty that every time I eat one, it ruins my taste for all candy for 3 months."

There's little to report. I had a relaxing weekend. I finished some cool stuff, so Saturday I basically stayed in, got some cheap champagne (Korbel, which may or may not be 'cheap' champagne depending on where you're from) and drank it in a martini glass while watching a movie with some candles lit. I wanted to watch The Incredibles, but the on-demand thing didn't work, so I ended up watching this movie called My Life Without Me, about this girl who finds out she has terminal cancer and only a couple months to live. So she decides to keep it secret and make audio-taped messages for her family to play after she's gone. The cast included Debbie Harry and that really talented blond girl from The Love Life of Gillian Guess. Oh, and Scott Speedman and Mark Ruffalo. It was a pretty good movie. A li'l sad, and you knew how it was going to end. But I liked it. And I was glad that she actually died in the movie. I think the movie was Canadian--I bet if it was American she would have miraculously recovered, probably from some experimental treatment that sinister forces were trying to keep under wraps until some maverick doctor played by Julia Roberts forces the hospital to try it. That part would surely involve at least one car chase and some things blowing up. Oh, and the whole love triangle thing would end with the girl re-affirming her love to the Scott Speedman character and the Mark Ruffalo character (who she's having an affair with, to see 'what it's like to have sex with a different man') would marry the Julia Roberts character. And of course the girl would decide that sex is terrible with anyone but her husband and the Julia Roberts character would decide that she never really wanted to be a doctro at all, but just wanted to get married, and she'd quit her job to raise their blond child. Maybe Robin Williams would have his perfunctory hyper-annoying role as well.

Well, I didn't really say much, but there's 2 paragraphs there, so that's pretty good. So I guess I'll make that the beep for now.

Beep!
Ed Shepp

Read it. Buy it. Hear it. Buy it. See it.