It’s Holly

This was on CNN today.

click to enlarge

It might not be too obvious. You still lookin’? Okay, I’ll tell you. It’s a story about the unbearable living conditions for refugees at the New Orleans Superdome… with an advertisement to buy Superdome tickets below the image on the right.

Sometimes… it’s not always a good idea to get automatic Yahoo ad feeds. Good job, ticketcity.com. Somebody’s gotta catch that eventually.

Update: Seems that the ads rotate out. Which ad will you get? The one about houses for sale in Houston? Or the one about the cheapest Superdome tickets?

“Hi! My name is CNN.com and I’m a money-hungry, insensitve asshole. Please click my ads.”

First of all, big ups to Stephanie for making that long trek down from Oside last night to join me at Cane’s in PB. Good job, trooper!!!

Pretty much last minute, I decided to try to rally some troops to head down to Canes to see little brother. Nobody knew who I was talking about… so I’m like… “They like ATCQ, with a little splash of Outkast”. I was just expecting to see little brother… and maybe a couple of their friends come on, but the entire show was off the hook.

It started out with the Icons, who are from SD. They messed up a couple of times, but kindly apolgized “for the bullshit that just occured”. They were hot. Then L.E.G.A.C.Y (Life Ends Gradually And Changes You) rocked it… he’s a small dude, but cocky as hell. I guess that’s why they call him Rockstar. Then Darien Brockington came out and sang his damn ass off. I’m so glad they had someone doing some R&B type stuff… the change of pace was good. Then the Away Team came on, but i missed most of their set ’cause i was too busy tryin’ to get free CD’s out of this guy:

Holly and Chaundon

Chaundon was off the hook (not to mention the fact that he did kiss me on the cheek – unsolicited at that!!). He didn’t have a whole set to himself or nothin, but when he came on stage w/ Away Team and Little Brother, the did his thing. Big ups to Chaundon! Thanks for the CDs. Then finally, Little Brother took stage and KILLED IT with Joe Scudda and DJ Flash. For $12, this show was unbelievable… I would have gladly paid $30. I gotta give it up to them for not relying on sponsors for their tour. No Verizon, no Seagrams, no Beck’s After Dark… no “brought to you by Tanqueray and KFC”… just real hip hop and real lyrics… real freestylin. It was hot to death.

There were these two dudes sitting in front of me and Stephanie that were just SO INTO THIS SHOW. Like, bobbin their heads and jumping up and down and pumping their fists in the air like crazy. I told Steph we had to talk to them after the show, and that I did.

Tyari(sp?) and Patrick

They were both very sweet. I thanked them for keeping us entertained with their energy throughout the show. They asked us what was going on… me and Steph said “Sleep” and proceeded home.

So, big ups to Justus League for bringing some real hip hop to San Diego. None of this bitches hos big screen tvs blunts and bentley shit. I wouldn’t be surprised if they rolled up to Canes in a Monte Carlo. They kept it realer.

You stay classy, San Diego!

Saturday started off with a celebration – Tairah’s 10th birthday party, where all the children where magically transformed into little Smurfs. There’s only so much of a crap load of 10 year olds that you can take. Needless to say, I stayed for the cake and then I bounced. The cake, a beautiful creation from Coldstone, was Spongebob Squarepants inspired, complete with blue frosting and a pineapple under the sea. Hence, the smurf transformation. I’ve never seen frosting STAIN so bad in my life.

Then it was back to my house, where I met up with Kelly and we watched her new Chappelle DVD and proceeded to our favorite sushi restaurant. Ahh… sushi. Our favorite past time. We go to this place so much, they know us there. I think they fight over our table ’cause Kelly tips really well. Anywho… they all know us. So, I figured it’s about time that we start learning names. Brandon, the manager, came by to check on us. I told him that he has to name a special after me and Kelly with the 4 rolls that we get every time we go in: The Don, The Chronic, the Kitchen Sink, and Slippery When Wet. He said those are the best ones (we know!!). Considering we don’t look at the menu anymore, we’ll have to check it periodically to see if our special is in there. Then our waiter came by (big ups to Juan), and said that Brandon, the manager of the restaurant, would like to buy us dessert. How sweet! I mean, we are regulars… fuck, we’re straight up investors. We resisted to get the one dessert that’s Deep Fried (you’d be proud, Krissi), and opted for the chocolate lava cake with white chocolate gelato ice cream instead. It was hot to death. Now we just gotta dip it in batter and tempura Deep Fry it. Mmm mmm, bitch.

Then it was off to Winstons, where we saw Those Dang Robinsons and dealt with drunk sorority girls all night. Ask Kelly… I was about to punch one of them. Then there was the coked up dude who kept jumping around and “dancing”. Kelly had already been up for 24 hours, she was hurtin’. But the band was off the chain, so she kept saying “Okay, we’ll leave after this song…” “… okay, one more… but after this one we’ll go.” Lies, lies… we stayed the whole set, which I didn’t mind, but I knew Kels was exhausted. They put on a really good show though. We get back to my place around 2, and I tell Kelly to stay at my place ’cause it doesn’t make any sense to drive home 45 miles north. So she does.

… 8 AM…

Kelly: Holly, you can have your bed now.
Holly: Huh?
Kelly: You wanna get breakfast?
Holly: Okay.
Kelly: Let’s go to hash house!
Holly: Okay!

And off to Hash House A Go-Go we Went-went. I’ve heard wonderful things about this place, but had never actually been there, until Sunday morning. There was a little wait, but the host was very nice, and looked really familiar. Turns out we went to the same high school. Small world. He seats us on the patio and our waiter comes and takes our order. Kels gets the biscuits and gravy (surprise, surprise), and I get Andy’s sage fried chicken, benedict style w/ scrambled eggs and bacon smashed potatoes (Yes, i got that for breakfast…. it was on *their menu!!). Then we got an order of pancakes because they sounded good (banana and brown sugar! yum!). Then the plates came….

Holy shit.

It was like eating at Claim Jumper for breakfast. The portions were RIDICULOUS. The plates were so huge, that people would walk past our table and have to walk AROUND THE PLATES that were hanging off the edge. The runners that brought our food were like “Wow, that’s a lot of food.” So everytime someone would pass by me and Kelly would mumble “We didn’t know….we’ve never been here… we didn’t know!!! WE DIDN’T KNOW!!!!!”. Then they’d laugh. This, ladies and gents, was a landmark even in the world of “Saturday and Sunday with Kelly and Holly”… we took food home. We had LEFTOVERS. This NEVER happens… never ever ever, ever ever!

For the first time ever, leftovers are brought home.

Not only did we bring home leftovers… but the bag was about 16 lbs – no shit. 16 lbs of potatoes, biscuits, pancake, fried chicken and eggs. I had to clear a shelf in my refrigerator.

Needless to say, I woke up full this morning (and so did Kelly). So, I highly recommend Hash House, and I highly recommend SPLITTING A PLATE OF FOOD. It’s just too much… but so worth it

So, in my unrelentless battle of the bulge, my kind sister suggested the comical idea of giving up foods that are Deep Fried. In turn, I told Kelly of my sister’s evil scheme, and here’s her Deep Fried rationalization:

“On consumption of Deep Fried goodness your stomach starts to shut down due to the massive amount of saturated fats, making it impossible to absorb any more food. You see the grease operates as a food barrier. It lines the stomach with a protective coating, if you will, so any calories/fat eaten after anything Deep Fried will simply go right through you. The grease is so slippery food just glides through your intestinal track with no time to actually digest. So in conclusion I feel, with the data I have gathered, that eating something Deep Fried isn’t bad for you, it is actually very beneficial.

It’s Deep Fried, bitches!!! It’s so good it’s capitalized. Need I say more. Tell Eartha she is crazy.” - Kelly, deep fried connoisseur and maîtresse de beurre

Can you see why me and this girl hang out?! She’s like… my white twin. lol Rationalize that shit, Eartha! bwahahahaha!!!!

John Legend is … well… a legend. But more on that later, let’s start from the beginning. Grab a cup of coffee, kids. It’s gonna be a long blog.

So, as read in the previous post, Kelly and I had tickets to see John Legend at the HOB in Hollywood. From my experiences at the HOB in San Diego, I know that there’s *always a line, no matter how early you get there. But, if you eat at their restaurant the day of the show, you get to go into the venue 15 minutes earlier than the “regular” folk. When I called to make the reservation, she said they were all booked up, but we were free to eat at the bar, which had a full menu. So we left SD around 3, hit traffic, got to the HOB around 5:15ish. Perfect.

We get to the restaurant, sit at the bar and they’re doing sound check. It was awesome, even without John or Lyfe there. The nice waitress suggest calamari as a starter, and Kelly and I being the deep fried connoisseurs that we are, gladly oblige. Now, let me preface this by saying that I have NEVER EVER sent food back in my life, but this calamari was just WRONG. Old and rubbery… and it came out of the kitchen way to quick, so you know it wasn’t fresh. Bitches. The waitress checks on us and I say “Honey, I NEVER EVER do this, please don’t think I’m an ass or trying to be bougie… but this calamari is old and rubbery. I’m so sorry… I mean.. I eat at Wienerschnitzel, you know I don’t send shit back” and she says “It’s okay, it’s not like I made it… you want a fresh batch?” I say no, and we get the Voodoo shrimp instead, which was awesome. Kelly ordered the fried shrimp and cheese grits, I ordered the fried chicken with cheese grits instead of mashed potatoes, ’cause I knew Kelly wasn’t gonna let me have none of her grits. lol The rest of the dinner, minus me continually apologizing to the waitress and her manager for sending back the calamari, was excellent.

We go back to the car to drop off our purses (’cause carrying a purse at a concert SUCKS) and redo our makeup and alla that junk, then head back to the HOB to get in the “we ate dinner here and we’re getting in 15 minutes earlier than you” line. I always pray that when I go to a concert like this, where we’ll be waiting for a while, that there are cool ass people in line around us. God answered my prayers, and we had 5 cool ass chicks hanging out with us in line (bigups to Ingrid, Ellia, Monica, Fanny, Anna and her husband Gilbert!). They made time in line pass by so fast, and we even ended up hanging out with them during the concert. We would watch all the hoochies walk by in their stillettos like “ooh… this is standing room only, your toes gonna HATE you”) Thanks girls! Anyway, we’re hanging out, and this super dorky black guy comes up to us taking pictures with his camera phone. He works for Verizon, who’s sponsoring the show. He says that he’s taking pictures of people waiting, and during the show they’ll show them on the big screen, and a few people will be “randomly selected by the computer” to get backstage passes. Kelly says “Fuck the computer!!! Pick us!” So we’re all flirting with this dorky black dude, and Kelly says “What’s your name?!” And he says… playing around like he’s John Legend, “::chuckle:: My name is John…” And Kelly says “oh no… I’m not THAT drunk.”

….

Fuckin’ Kelly man. Everyone was like “oooooh….did she say that?!” LMAO It was funny shit. So the guy walks away and comes back. He points to me and says “You and one other person”… and turns around to the other girls we met in line and says “One of you three… pick amongst yourselves.” So they can’t decide, and he finally picks one and takes us around the corner. We don’t know why, we just hope we get somethin’ free. Then we meet the cutest gay boy ever named Chris, and he hands us backstage passes. Backstage fucking passes. This shit never happens to me! NEVER. And if Kelly woulda kept her mouth shut she woulda had one, guaranteed. So I tell Chris that my girl is with me and I can’t go in without her… and he says “I’ll see what I can do…”. So, I get back in line with Ellia (who also got a backstage pass) and we get ready to go into the concert.

We run into the concert hall and get a spot right in front of the stage. Like… right up ON the stage… as close as you are to the desk your sitting at right now is how far away we were away from the stage. Then Lyfe comes on. This boy… can SAAAAAAAAAANG. Kelly says he’s “prison hot”. lol His voice is ridiculous good. Stupid fresh, even. He said something about “i love you guys…” and I shout out “I love you!!!!!” (not really, but you end up saying stupid shit like that at concerts). And he hears me and points to me. (Holy shit, he heard me!!!) I can’t even remember what song he was singing now… i think it was “Must Be Nice”, and he walks over to where we were standing, and I hold out my hand like the helpless groupie that I am, and he grabs my hand and sings to me for a little bit… man… that was crazy. Girls around me gettin’ crazy like “Why he pick you?!” lol Well he did, bitches. Lyfe’s set was off the hook. Pick up his album.

Then intermission… girls fighting to get to the front, girls fighting to get to the bathroom and back. Never pee during a concert. Hold that shit til the end, especially if you’re up front, or you’ll never get back to your spot.

Then… John Legend comes out. The moment we’ve been waiting for. Then we realize how the stage is set up and see that we won’t be able to see John at all during the concert… only the back of his big ass black piano. Any other concert i might have been peturbed, but not this one. Partially ’cause I knew he wouldn’t be on the piano the whole time, partially ’cause I knew unlike this other bitches, I was gonna see him backstage up close and personal after the show. Fuck the piano. I can’t really describe his set in words…

Phenomenal.

Kelly was laughing at me the whole time during the concert… ’cause I was just feelin’ it so much. Had my eyes closed and my right hand up n’ everything. She kept tapping me on the shoulder saying “Holly….we’re gonna meet him!!!!” lol She was crackin’ me up. The concert was great. In my top three concerts of all time (behind Prince and Jill Scott, of course). It couldn’t have been any better, except for the fact that we were going to meet him.

Chris gives Kelly the last backstage pass, and we head upstairs (it’s not really “back stage”), where John comes through and takes pictures with us, and signs autographs. I had all kinds of smart ass things to say to him (will you be my baby daddy? will you sing at *our wedding? I’m an ordinary person, you’re an ordinary person, let’s have one extraordinary baby! lol) , but when he was there I didn’t say them. Stupid Holly. He was very sweet, nonetheless.

Kelly and I hike back up the hill to where we parked with permanant smiles on our faces. Then Kelly lights up a Parliament and says “Let’s go to Roscoes!!!!”. I can’t remember where the closest one is, so we end up on good ole’ Pico and La Brea. Then I realize I can’t find my visa check card. That shit is lost in the bottomless pit that is my car. It’s never coming back. It’s in that same place that socks go after you put a pair in the dryer and only one comes out. That place. Oh well, fuck it. I could care less. I met John Legend, bitch! We get our Roscoes on (thanks to our waitress Mama Ella) and leave in a food coma… hop on the 10 East and we see one of those amber alert signs that says “5 Jammed, take 605 South”. We’re looking at the 5 like.. it’s not jammed! These bitches are lying!!! We hop on the 5, and lo and behold, the shit is CLOSED. Not a few lanes… the whole fuckin’ freeway is shut down. We end up taking the 605 South to the 405 South back to the 5. And I don’t think either of us complained. Once. Just because we were still on our John Legend high. Not even about our feet after standing for hours on end!

It was 5 AM before I got home, and I couldn’t even sleep. It was phenomenal. Scrumtralescent, even. A night I won’t forget. The pictures are coming soon… gotta scan those bitches in and photoshop the shit out of them.

Did I leave anything out, Kels?

Who’s going to see John Legend at the House of Blues on Sunset Strip tomorrow? I am!! I am!! Kelly is, too. Being the horrible procrastinators that we are… we had to purchase the tickets on EBay and pay double what we normally would have paid, had we actually bought them early. Pssssh… what can you do. John Legend has officially made it on my list of “Possible Baby Daddys”, along with Common, Mos Def, Prince (yeah, I said Prince… eff you. lol), Will Smith (circa Ali/iRobot – thanks Kels), Maxwell, and Angelina Jolie (we can do it, gurl! we can *do this! big shouts out to Maddox and Zahara, lol). If you haven’t heard/purchased/download (shame, shame!!!) the John Legend CD, you’re wack. Super wack… �berwack, even. Go fix that.

i love this stuff.

i don’t know why, i don’t know how, but I got sick yesterday. It actually started Monday afternoon… i left work saying “wow, I feel kinda sick”, and lo and behold, my ass got sick. sneezy runny stuffed nose, watery eyes, sore throat, coughing… the whole 9. i went into work on Tuesday and tried to stick it out… but i ended up leaving around 3. Then I hunkered down with some Kleenex w/ Lotion and Vitamin E and a bottle of the good red stuff pictured above and called it a night. So this, ladies and gentlemen, is my ode to the almighty Nyquil.

Ode to Nyquil

Coughing and mucus doesn’t phase you,
You help me sleep through the night.
Even when my pile of gross tissues grew,
You made sure everything was alright.

Oh sweet red nectar of the gods,
your protective plastic cap is so reassuring.
even though most find the way i sneeze odd,
you looked at it as yours for the curing.

So Nyquil, I dedicate these verses to you
In all of your cherry flavored splendor.
You made my pain go away so soon
Just like a late night drinking bender.

Dans un effort de pratiquer parler français, j’ai décidé de créer une entrée chaque semaine qui sera complètement en français. Bonne chance avec le traduction.

Ce week-end passé, je suis allé à Newport Beach avec ma meilleur ami Jonathan et sa famille . Ils ont loyé un grande maison pour leur réunion de famille . La maison était très grande ! Je n’ai pas vu la maison entière tandis que j’étais là . Il y a trois cuisines! Trois cuisines dans une maison ! C’était crazy ! Il y avait beaucoup de nourriture et d’alcool, et tout le monde avait un bonne temps. Je suis très impatients pour le prochaine réunion. J’adore la famille de Jonathan, et je pense que ils adorent moi aussi.

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The Gap Ad Gone Wrong
(click to enlarge)

Today, Jonathan turns 23. It’s hard to believe that I’m older than him, sometimes… albeit only 5 months. He’s the older, more responsible party. It’s been good having him home this past month, but he’s off to Paris again on Sunday… lucky bastard. Good news is, I’m jacking all of his American Airlines air miles so I can run off to Paris for Christmas. The even BETTER news is that little brother Chris will be in Rome in two weeks, and by the time I’m in Europe for Christmas he’ll know all the hot spots. Fantastical! Scrumtralescent, even.

Jonathan, tu es mon meilleur ami et je t’aime pour toujours. Bon anniversaire, mon petit chou chou !!! Et je vous verrai en d�cembre � Paris !

Pot Holders and Oven Mitts

My mom makes this bomb ass Corned Beef Casserole. We were talking about it this weekend… so I stole one of her casserole dishes and decided to make it myself. It’s pretty basic – elbow macaroni, corned beef, cheese, cream of chicken soup, bread, and butter. So I pre-heated the oven to ??? degrees and threw in the casserole. My oven temperature control doens’t really work. I sorta just light the pilot and hope for the best. So I threw it in, went into my “living room” and waited until I could smell it. That’s usually a good sign it’s time to come out. About 15 minutes into “The Forgotten” (the stupidiest movie *ever, btw), I could smell the casserole more than my Votivo Red Currant candle, which was currently lit next to my computer. Yay! Casserole’s done!! I open up the oven and it’s nice, light brown, and bubbly. Mmm, mmm, bitch!

::enter dramatic music::

How am I gonna get this shit out of the oven!?! While I’m scrounging around for thick pieces of fabric to shield my hands from the ??? degree heat (I still don’t know what temperature it was… but it was pretty frickin’ hot), the tips of the bread of my lovely, lovely casserole overbrowned. Burned. Son of a… two bath towels and a kitchen sponge later, my casserole is safely on the counter.

It was good.