Because Your Dog Is Too Good For A Wee-Wee Pad

It is common knowledge by now that my puppy is a diva. It even says so on her water dish. Though it is hard to know where she developed such behavior (ha), one thing is very clear to my nose--her wee-wee towel sits under my kitchen table. Yes, I work at gaining employment smelling urine all day.

I spent close to $100 on wee-wee pads, only for LB to destroy them and run around with them in her mouth, taunting me for being such a fool. She prefers to urinate on a nice soft towel and then take a toy and lay in that said towel and urine pool. Rolling in it...looking at me...fucking loving it.

The amount of money and time I spend at the laundromat is in vain, as her urine seems to out-smell the strongest of bleaches. She is currently looking at me as if she is an angel and I just had to open all the windows in the house...she must have gotten into some asparagus.

Because You Haven't Become This Desperate...Yet

Glenn BeckTrolling Craigslist for a Writer

Mercury Radio Arts is the New York based production company owned by Radio and TV host Glenn Beck.

Mercury seeks a writer for contributions to Glenn's radio program, magazine, and web site. The ideal candidate will have a strong interest in news, current events, and politics.

Key responsibilities will include contributing original content to GlennBeck.com and to Glenn's radio program and magazine. Writing will include a mix of short pieces and long articles, fact-based commentary on the news of the day, etc.

Requirements:

• Strong written and verbal communication skills• Research skills• At least 2 years of journalism experience

Interested candidates, please send resume, cover letter, and at least 3 writing samples. Cover letters must include salary requirements to be eligible for consideration.

Location: New York, NY

We are an Equal Opportunity Employer.

Because Your Friend's Parents Got Bored In The Winter

Why is May/June the season for birthdays? And not just any birthdays, but ones that warrant gift buying and dinner attendance. Were all your parents that bored during the same time in winter that they had to have sex?

I love and adore my friends and thoroughly enjoy spoiling them rotten, but you people are killing me. My co-founder Miss Erin has her big day next week, followed by a certain man in my life, ending with Father's Day. Perhaps you people would like some food stamps or a homemade gift? I make great collages...

Serenity Now!

Because You Remembered Your Dream

For the past several years, I was living without goals. I had done it all-worked for Rolling Stone, been published in the NY Times, excelled at NYU, went all over Europe. I thought there was nothing left to conquer, but the growing number of books on my Amazon Wish list.

Maybe it took getting laid off to start motivating me again. I just wish it came with some fucking severance. Today, however, I remembered that teenage dream. I had lunch in the NY Times' building and I remembered...

I saw the rows of desks, the fresh copy, the red pen edits and I remembered...I wanted to work at the NY Times. They are no longer hiring--nor would they hire someone my age, but it was nice to feel again. I also realized that should I seriously pursue this dream again, I would be beyond broke. I would have to build my way up at a local paper--or worse, freelancing and begging for bylines at outrageous publications like New York magazine or Gawker that would completely demoralize me.

So you are broke if you go for your dream and you don't have a trust fund or second job, which believe it or not is harder to find than a first in this city...sigh..at least I got to sample their sushi.

Because You Ascribe To New York Magazine

While waiting for my psychiatrist appointment this afternoon, my eyes wandered over to the "free" magazines in which I decided to "borrow" the new issue of New York based on its cover story: "How the Recessions May Change the City for Better or Worse."

I usually refrain from reading New York as it only serves to pat on the back the pretentious/materialistic/think they know something about art/culture people from the Midwest who have moved to Manhattan. I was not let down by this cover story. The author argues that the recession is a good thing for New York, because hey, volunteering is up and all crimes are down. Maybe that's because there are no paying jobs and no one can afford a gun or a lead pipe.

She also mentioned that the people who get laid off deserved it for being lazy. Oh really? Honey let me remind you, you are writing for New York, not The New Yorker...Also the last recession provided us with Marc Jacob's Grunge line! Wow...I can not wait. Oh, but my clothes already have holes in them...

The unemployed will feel liberated!...More like infuriated.

Because You Are Getting Old

0.5 oz for $28.50

Because The UES Small Dog Park Is a Bloodbath

I have enough stress in my life right now; hounding people for a job, eating massive amounts of rice and beans and pasta, making semi-weekly trips to the pawn shop, is it too much to ask to sit at the small dog park and let Lil Bubba play? Apparently it is as this afternoon's brawl (of people) proved.

Lil B and I were prancing up the steps and could already hear the yelling. Dog walkers and owners fighting over the fact that the same people are continuously bringing larger dogs into the small dog park. The sign on the fence boldly says your dog must be less than 25 lbs to enter. I know reading is a luxury trait these days, but come on people. I do not want your snuggaluffagus/woolly mammoth lurching at my small pure bred.

As soon as I entered I was approached by a yapping woman about how I felt on the matter. I said that I don't think the larger dogs should be allowed in, because they are a safety hazard to the little ones. Everyone naturally had an opinion alliances were quickly formed, with several fuck yous being exchanged throughout. All the while the dogs continued to play--and then I saw it. One of the illegal large beasts lunged at Lil B, MY LB. In my attempt to stop it, my hand got stuck in the metal fence and split my nail so bad that blood began to pour, opening myself up to swine flu (is that still "in" now btw and whatever else these mutants have in their sweater vests). Thankfully, Lil B bitched slapped the large MUTT before it could do her any harm. That was it; I was now fully engaged in the battle.

Dogs that are big enough to smother mine, need to move their hairy asses to the large dog park literally next door. Eventually, our side prevailed and we had the large dog owners remove their dogs and a small victory was won until tomorrow when they bring them back and the rage attacks begin again. At least, I was able to yell at someone.

Broke total: $1.99 for anti-septic, $2.99 for Band aids for severed nail, $99 for Reese's for inflicted mental trauma at Duane Reade.