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  1. Deep Thoughts

    Holy haikus, Batman!

    April 16, 2012 by parry

    Things I like today: Honeydew-flavored Bubble Tea (ZOMG. a refreshing beverage that also kind of feels like a snack thanks to TAPIOCA BALLS, which I love and never thought I’d hear myself say) and HAIKUS. Yes, bitch. HAIKUS! Before there was the 9-9-9, there was the 5-7-5, and I’m about rock you like a Herman Cain in middle school English.

    The topic (and a VERY real problem), as requested by Boyfriend: “Make one about the temperature going up and down and your winter/summer clothes being too far down in the bed-vault, so in the most privileged and amazing city in the world, you are extremely uncomfortable out of being too lazy to attack your highly organized and efficient space saving seasonal clothing rotation system.”

    Oh cool, so we’re starting out easy?

    1. global warming exists
    the proof is in her wardrobe
    crammed, lazily, in dust

    2. binge shopping drawbacks
    ten sweaters to unpack when
    winter is one snow

    3. big apple problems
    looking good isn’t easy
    i can’t reach my scarves

    xoxo

    parrypants

     


  2. Deep Thoughts

    Kim and Kris Kan’t Kommitt (womp womp)

    November 1, 2011 by parry

    What kind of pop culture addict would I be if I didn’t have something to say about Kim Kardashian’s failed nuptials to the shitbag prehistoric oaf she married, also known as Kris Humphries? A bad one. Or a busy one. Both of which I am not. I aim to please, people. Anyone who knows me, knows I LOATHE Kimmy K. Do I think I could be friends with Kourtney and Khloe? Possibly. Do I too, admire the empire they’ve created for themselves, thus allowing them to do things like get cellulite removal on a whim and/or go buy Tampons and in a pair of spiked Louboutins? Totally. Did I watch “Kim’s Fairytale Wedding” last night just so I could be all like, “GIRL. HELLO. WE (the people + Khloe) TOLD YOU SO!” Yes. Yes I did. Also, because it came on right after back-to-back episodes of “Sex & the City,” and by that point I had all but become an appendage from my couch.

    But yeah I mean, HELLO! GIRL. SERIOUSLY. I don’t wish divorce upon anyone, but she was better off with Ray J. However, I’m not here to talk shit (today). I’m here to pass along the good word of comedian Rob Delaney, who, instead of over-analyzing “WHAT WENT WRONG” like the rest of us, is SUING Kim Kardashian, Ryan Seacrest, E! Entertainment Television, and Comcast for

    “promoting their sham marriage, bilking advertisers, and polluting the airwaves of America and every other nation unfortunate enough to be subject to the disease of Kardashia.”

    Aside from totally LOVING this idea and wish I had thought of it myself (a la Arrested Westeros), I thought Rob’s advice to Kim on the subject of marriage was particularly poignant:

    “Sometimes it sucks. And I don’t mean lower-case “s” sucks. I mean it SUCKS so fucking hard you’re POSITIVE you’ll give yourself stomach cancer or an embolism as you try to make your spouse explode through telekinesis. When you relax, however, and remember that you’re a bigger asshole than they are, with enough neuroses and calcified bad habits to warrant their own card catalog, you realize that they’re struggling through life’s shit storm just like you. Then you take a shower together and fuck while laughing.”

    RIIIIIIIEEEGHT?! You guys need to read this article in full. He eventually goes on to call Kim a “sexy monster,” which I enjoy.

    Also, Rob, we should be friends. Or at least pen pals. I have a lot of things I’d like to talk to you about with extreme emphasis via CAPSLOCK.

     

    xoxo

    parrypants


  3. Girl Crush!

    STEVIE NICKS! (always and forever)

    October 19, 2011 by parry

    Have you guys listened to the new album Stevie Nicks released earlier this year? It’s called In Your Dreams, and that bitch still looks as mystical as ever on the cover. She’s all like, “Hey man. I finally mellowed out on the drugs and now I’m all serene and fiercely fuckin’ folky with my magical white steed that’s going to take me back to the days when Lindsey Buckingham was kind of a babe. I kept all my hair in tact, why couldn’t he hang on to his, ya dig?”  That’s my 70s voice.

    Anyways, I’ve been having a major moment with Stevie Nicks and Fleetwood Mac since like, forever, so here’s The Top 5 Reasons Stevie Nicks (was AND is) The Tits:

     

    1. She makes ridiculous things look un-ridiculous.

    For example: Top hats, polka-dot netted veils, Lindsey Buckingham’s mustache on the cover of Buckingham Nicks’ 1973 LP. Seriously, how does she do it? I wore a simple, on-trend, flat-brimmed floppy black hat one day and Boyfriend told me it aged me like, 20 years. Cool. So much for fall fedoras. And even Lady Gaga looks legit ridiculous in netted veils, despite “ridiculous” supposedly being her “thing.” But I also think that Lady Gaga looks stupid fucking ridiculous no matter what she does because I hate her and wish that she and her catchy songs would go away. Stevie’s ability to sexify Lindsey’s flimsy porn star ‘stache on their LP cover speaks for itself. She looks all naked and edge of seventeen. And therefore Lindsey is hawt by association for being naked with her, mustache and all. Ya dig? I will work on the 70s voice, I swear.

     

     

     

     

     

     

    2. She had the strength to not push Taylor Swift off the GD stage after she BUTCHERED “Rhiannon” at the 2010 Grammys.

    I’m still angry about this. That shit made my skin crawl. I mean, Stevie is a gypsy goddess LEGEND and Taylor Swift has made it abundantly clear that she cannot carry a tune to save her bubblegum-infused life. Did they pay Stevie in Klonopins for that appearance? Because I’m pretty sure she MUST have been sedated to agree to be a BACKUP singer for one of Taylor’s songs at the end of that medley. They would have been better off putting Stevie up there with Susan fucking Boyle. At least that woman has enough sense to stay away from John Mayer. Regardless, I admire Miss Nicks for her ability to keep it together on stage in front of millions (while I screamed obscenities at my television). But I mean, it was probably the Klonopins.

     

     

     

     

     

     

     

    3. Speaking of Klonopins, Stevie was was addicted to them for 8 YEARS. AFTER being addicted to cocaine for 10 YEARS. That brings her to a grand total of 18 YEARS of addiction. And she didn’t die. Nor could I find any sloppy photos of her on the interwebs. So I mean, congratulations. I’m not even mad. I’m just amazed.

    That pretty much sums it up.

     

     

     

     

     

     

     

     

     

    4. She is 62 years old and has apparently yet to begin the aging process.

    Either that or she’s drinking the blood of newborns. I mean really. Look at the woman. 62! Are you kidding me?! I am 27 and already having issues with the lines around my mouth. I’m sure she’s stoked that the whole BoHo trend is staying put, because there’s got to be SOMETHING unsightly and saggy under there. She’s so super lucky though. She gets to continue to dress like she did in her 20s and she can make it WERK. Because if Nicole Richie’s wearing it, then consider yourself cool. Seriously. Love that skinny bitch.

     

     

     

     

     

    5. She was kiiiiiiiind of slutty back in her day, but that seemed to make her a more interesting artist. So, I’d definitely consider that one a point for women. Pretty much.

    Not that I am encouraging any of you to act like a mechanical bull and let everyone get a ride, but I’ve read a shit ton of articles on Stevie, and no one had the balls to seriously criticize her for sleeping around. To which I say, good for her. Because I hate double-standards like that. And since her abilities as a songwriter SO majorly overshadowed her privates’ public appearances, all people could manage was “Hey man. Doesn’t Stevie have the raddest collection of saris? And I love the shit out of that song “Never Goin’ Back Again.” Is she banging Buckingham or Fleetwood? Whatever. She’s a babe. Do you have a lighter?” It’s possible this was a benefit from the era of Free Love, but I think there’s a lesson to be learned here anyways. Basically, if you’re really pretty and decide to be kind of a slutty homewrecker, you should probably be super talented at something other than fellatio. Shit like PR and real estate and counting calories doesn’t count, BTW.

     

     

    xoxo

    parrypants


  4. Deep Thoughts

    Typical Situation

    October 14, 2011 by parry

    Okay so here’s the thing: Whenever I tell people I work “in music” or “in the music industry,” undoubtedly, their follow-up question is: “OooOOOo! Do you sing or play an instrument?!” To which I politely laugh and then tell them “Oh honey, NO. I cannot carry a tune to save my life!” This is literally my exact canned response. But I mean,  just because you’re a GENIUS in the Hummdinger catergory in Cranium, does not a musician make. I played the flute for like, 2 years in middle school because that’s what all the other cute and pretty girls were doing, even though I wanted to play the drums; but, alas, I thought I was WAY too cute and pretty for such a loud, bulky instrument. Girl Power. And if we’re being honest ’round these parts, I didn’t exactly peak in “cute and pretty” during middle school, so who was I kidding.

    There was also a time I learned how to play the first 15 seconds of Dave Matthews Band’s “Typical Situation” on the acoustic guitar, and I could KILL the Rugrats theme song on the piano. But this is as far as my musical talent and/or patience reached.

    So when my friend Keenan recently told me he needed to temporarily get rid of some instruments while he moved, I decided I should jump at the opportunity to partially commit to learning how to play one. I walked away with both a banjo and a ukulele. Super ambitious of me, right?

    First of all, that banjo was fucking heavy. I carried it all the way from the Essex stop to my apt on 1st Avenue and 4th Street, and after the first few blocks I quit carrying it like a cool person and started carrying it like a sack of groceries. My friend Noel, in the meantime, took the itty bitty ukulele and was walking around grinning like Tiny Fucking Tim himself.  After I finally lugged the banjo up my 6 flights of stairs, I was beyond ready to put Baby in a corner.

    Then, whilst working from home the other day, the precious little ukulele sang out to me. In the key of B sharp. Or whatever. Also, I had just finished going through all my trashy celeb-stalking websites and needed something else to do during my “lunch break.” The uke was the closest thing I could grab without leaving my chair. So I picked the sucker up, Googled a bunch of chords and shit, and .. ABRACADABRA! I was ready to play my first song:  The Velvet Underground’s “After Hours.”

    Sike! That did not go well. Mostly because I am both stubborn and lazy and like to learn things the hard way. Also, I’m just really ready to give people a different answer when they ask me if I play an instrument or have an untapped American Idol voice: “Well yes, actually. I do dabble in the uke from time to time.” Do people say that? Whatever. So once I sort of got the hang of a few chords, I decided to record myself in an effort to show the world that if I can do it, SO CAN YOU.

    And I’m going to show it to you because there’s nothing I love more than self-deprecating humor. This could get really awkward for the both of us though, so, you know, enter at your own risk (THAT’S WHAT SHE SAID!? Never gets old. Never.).

    NOTES: 1.) The uke has a name – Luke … the Uke … get it? 2.) The “wink” is not intended for the general public, and 3.) Yes, I know I missed the second “BEWWWWWW.” I was nervous, okay?

    Afternoon Delight from Parry Ernsberger on Vimeo.

     

    xoxo

    parrypants


  5. Deep Thoughts

    Shameover and/or Look What I Can Do!

    October 4, 2011 by parry

    Do you guys hate me? I know I’ve been a bad blogger. And I feel shame. SO MUCH SHAME.   Does this adorable picture of a sad and shameful corgi help? Because that’s how I feel.

    Adorable and shameful.

    But seriously, let’s talk about this. I’m sorry I’ve been bad at keeping up. I’ve been meaning to write you. It’s all I think about when I go to bed at night. Okay, not ALL I think about. Sometimes I think about brilliantly clever things I could have/should have said at one point or another during the day and then brainstorm ways to insert them into future conversations. Sometimes I think about super-stylish outfit options for the coming week, even though you and I both know that I’m lucky if I make time to shower, much less iron a flouncy blouse. Sometimes I think about how hungry I always am and consider leaving bed for a string cheese snack. Sometimes. But other times, I think of you, Peoplethatoccassionallyreadmyblog. So take comfort in knowing that. K?

    In other news, I have been BUSY! And this is where I shamelessly plug my very first marquee feature EVER for Blurt Magazine Online. I was super lucky to be able to interview Alec Ounsworth from Clap Your Hands Say Yeah, who just released a new album (Hysterical) after a lengthy hiatus. If you like me, or if you like music, Alec Ounsworth and Clap Your Hands Say Yeah, you should read it (please and thank you):

    Is There Hope After Hiatus?

    The indie sensation garners applause with the release of its 3rd studio album. But Alec Ounsworth doesn’t care what we think anyways.

     


    xoxo

    parrypants


  6. Deep Thoughts

    Dream Big

    September 1, 2011 by parry

     

     

    Thinking of becoming a lobster these days. ADULT WORK IS HARD.

     

    xoxo

    parrypants