Archive for the 'By Josh' Category

My night in music.

So last night we had a really fun night (or at least I vaguely remember we did) all thanks to our good friend Daniel. Here was our night in music.

The beginning of the night, at the community park with hartknight and Julia, just before Daniel and Elaine were about to come:

(Of course there are several versions of this song, but this one is the best!)

A bit later, cruising around Scripps Ranch and Mira Mesa for a good place to chill.

After initial difficulties, and multiple failures, all hope is nearly lost. We are at the park, but failures. Only our prayers keep our hopes alive.

An hour later: We’re almost there, still at the park… almost ready…

A few minutes later: SUCCESS!

Later, in front of Sombrero’s, my mother calls me and I pick up… I’m sure you’ve seen this video a million times by now.

Finally, I go home because my mommy wants me to, I facebook some, and I go to bed…

This morning, I wake up and I’m not really sure what happened.

And that’s everything in a nutshell!

The Pursuit of Happiness

So here I am, 3AM, sitting in my bed, and blogging from my phone (because my roommate is asleep and I don’t want to wake him with loud tapping on the keyboard). And at this very moment, although my night was somewhat a failure, I can honestly say I am very content with what I do have.

You see, not too long ago I told some of my friends that my goal for the semester was to get insanely drunk and wake up in some strange girl’s bed (hopefully strange in the sense that I don’t know her, not in the sense that she’s just bizarre). Of course I was mostly kidding– there are so many issues that stem from drunken one night stands: STDs, awkwardness, rape, pregnancy scares, etc. Trust me, I know. But there was still a little part of me that did want it. The “hook-up” is arguably the most popular form of relationship on campus (or at least the most public). In fact, hook-ups are almost the defining characteristic of any college’s social scene.

So why wouldn’t I want what was considered normal? I came to college with the expectation that I’d be going to crazy, themed frat parties, meeting random people and hooking up with them, if sobreity was no longer a hinderance.

I was disappointed on all counts. It was this elusive lifestyle that I wanted so much but found I never could fit into. I’m nothing like the guys at the frats with the girls crawling over them for the free booze and company. I don’t even mean that in a condescending way. We really are just different.

But today was the first weekend of the new semester, and it’s the beginning of a new decade. Now is the perfect time to change. Right?

This whole week I was looking forward to the parties tonight. It was going to be my first step into normalcy, the first time I would feel like I belonged to something. Plus recently I’d been hearing Kid Cudi’s “Pursuit of Happiness” playing on TV…

My pursuit of happiness was the ideal, somewhat steretypical college life fueled by alcohol, sex, and social ambition. I have friends who’ve accomplished it and are truly happy in college right now. Why couldn’t I fins my way in? I blamed my failure on everything but myself– the frat parties were too lame, the other guys were just more fit and attractive and the girls too shallow, I had not met the right people yet, I didn’t have anyone to really party with, the people in my dorm would never accomodate that lifestyle, and the list goes on.

But this time it would be different. This time I would stay at the party until I met new people. I would get drunk and just enjoy life. Just like in the Kid Cudi video.

Unsurprisingly, I was disappointed yet again. Unlike the Kid Cudi music video, I wasn’t drinking fancy champagne, I was drinking a mysterious blue concoction and I also didn’t have any room to dance and jump around. In fact, it was so packed, it was hard to simultaneously move and breathe. Although I was sprayed by various liquids, it wasn’t in the good spirits of popped champagne– people just kept on bumping into me and spilling their drinks.

After about 45 minutes of that, my friends and I immediately decided to leave. We tried to get into another frat party but there was no more space left inside and a crowd was building on the stoop. Out of options, we decided to go to the school-run late night eatery. There we ate fries, chips and an abandoned, unopened soda while playing Taboo. It wasn’t at all what we had planned for the night. But I had a legitimately good time, and I wasn’t even buzzed by that point (a cup of blue stuff and a beer wouldn’t last me even an hour).

Now that I’m back in the comfort of my bed, I’ve come to realize just what the destination of my pursuit of happiness is. I don’t think I’ll strive anymore to meet every person in the school, or to be able to walk around campus giving “what’s up man?”‘s to the thousands of guys I’m buddies with.

At home, in high school, and, now I’ve finally realized, here in New York, I only need a few friends, board games, and a little (or a lot of) alcohol to go around to have happiness.

But if any girls are willing, I wouldn’t mind trying the “hook-up” thing. Afterall, you don’t know until you’ve tried!

Deadly Illusions, Installment Two

By popular demand, here is the next installment of Josh’s soap operature, Deadly Illusions.

Read Installment One first!

May 10, 2005

Now we leave Terry and Klein to discover Terry’s daughter, Debby, and her stay at Yale University.

As Debby laid in bed, she pondered about all the work she had to finish. Oh crap. I have a final today. Why didn’t I study? Why didn’t I drink that 12 pack of Red Bulls? Why did I have to go to that party and get raped and wasted at the same time?

“Some party last night huh?” said Brad, lying naked under the covers with her. Debby knew she had known her rapist, but she never knew he would be that recognizable.

“Yeah, I had a great time,” Debby said as she edged closer and closer to Brad, “but between getting stoned and being raped I forgot what happened. Could you remind me?” Debby edged closer and closer and ran her fingers down his hairy chest-


As Debby woke up from her slumber, all she could hear was a persistent ringing and a white surface that smelled like stale yogurt on a summer day in the end of July. She soon found that the ringing noise was her alarm clock and the white surface was her textbook. What time is it? she thought. It was 7:30. Oh sh*t! My final is at 7:45! I’ll never make it in time!

Once again Debby had bought the 12 pack of Red Bulls and pulled an all nighter to study for her Philosophy final. But if Debby did not make it into that classroom by 7:45, she would automatically fail her class. In a hurry, Debby changed into presentable clothes and fixed her hair. 7:50! Oh crap, i’ll never make it.

Debby raced to her class, but it all seemed like a blur. She got to the classroom at 7:44 and she walked into the classroom, sweating and tired, yet ready to take the test. During the test, she felt a sudden urge to puke. It’s just the nerves Debby! I’ve been waiting so long to take this test, I can’t ruin it! Despite her attempts to hold back the vomit, Debby vomited all over the desk and floor, ruining her test, and the unfortunate person who was sitting next to her’s pair of jeans. Great. I got an F.

“Looks like somebody got an F!” said the professor as he joked around with the class. “Anyone want to take her to the nurse? No? Eh. We’ll just leave her there for the next 5 hours.”

5 hours later…

Debby walked out of the room sick and dazed. She had vomited 6 times after her first spell. “Thanks for all the help Professor Lockwood.”
“No problem Debby. Before you go, can I tell you something?”
“Lock the door first Debby.”
“I said LOCK IT BITCH! IF YOU DON’T I’M GOING TO F*CKING EXECUTE EVERY LAST ONE OF YOU!” In horror, Debby screamed. Great am I going to get raped? I really can’t deal with getting raped right now, especially now that Jangles, my pet Chihuahua, has run away.
“Sorry! Did I scare you? Its a line from Pulp Fiction. Really good movie.”
“Oh, for a minute there I was happy.”
“Don’t ask.”
“Ok… well I um. Just wanted to talk to you about last night. I just want to assure you that you will pass this class no matter what. That is, unless you tell people.”
“Just because I gave you a foot massage?”
“No, not that,, a few weeks ago.”
Debby could remember it all now. She was at a party, and Professor Lockwood was there. He offered her a drink. And then she had passed out. When she woke up she was in his classroom, naked, without panties. She never knew what had happened.
“Debby, don’t worry about what happened to you last night.”
“What happened to me last night?”
“You were raped.”
“By who?”
“By someone who I hired to rape you. Jesus! You should stop smoking pot. It’s really hurting your memory.”
“I was raped again?”
“I knew I had gotten you pregnant, so I hired someone else to rape you so that the baby couldn’t be traced back to me.”
“What? That makes absolutely no sense.”
“Shut up! This is a soap opera, it never does, but you never say it.”
“Oh sorry.”
“It’s fine. Do you want a drink?”

Dazed, Debby went back to her apartment and thought about what had just happened. I’m pregnant? I was raped 3 times? Wait. Three? Once by Professor Lockwood, once by Professor Lockwood’s hired rapist. I know there was a third. But who?

At that second, her mom called, wanting to check in.
“How did your final go?”
“Fine, I guess. I vomited, but I still got an A.”
“Did you drink milk before you went like I told you?”
“Yes mom…”

And then she remembered. She had gone to her parent’s home for the weekend and she was raped. By the milkman!

“Debby? Honey? Is there anything wrong?”
“No mom, nothing at all.”


“Showgirls: The Musical” and the Fan Base to Rival Them All.

Elaine texted me this morning that the new revival of “Bye Bye Birdie” was closing earlier than expected– at first I was sad, but then I decided to do some research of my own.

Turns out, “Bye Bye Biridie” is for sure closing on January 24th– but that’s actually 2 weeks after the original closing date. Plus, there’s really no reason for the show to go on past that since John and Gina (that is Stamos and Gershon respectively) will both be leaving the cast on January 24th, regardless of whether the show continues or not.

So that minor tribulation was over, but thinking about “Bye Bye Birdie” led me to think about Gina Gershon, who naturally led me to ponder the cinematic masterpiece “Showgirls”.

At the same time, I was also contemplating my future (“Showgirls” opens the door to deep, insightful thought) and I decided that I would become famous for writing “Showgirls: The Musical”. Obviously, the fan base is crazy enough that they would all need to see it (a blog post explaining why the “Showgirls” fan base is the craziest in the world, second only to Britney Spears’, will be coming soon).

I tried finding any recent info on the previous reported plans for an official “Showgirls” musical but the only really official thing I could find was from 2006… that’s 3 years ago. However, I did find this blog post referencing the project from 2008 and I thought you might enjoy it:

Gina lists her “Top 5 movies that star Gina Gershon”, but amazingly, “Showgirls” isn’t one of them!

Sorry for the small digression– back to my future and writing “Showgirls: The Musical”…

Can I just assume that “Showgirls:The Musical” has died and that I can start my own version? Of course, once I finish it, I’ll mail it to Joe Eszterhas for a look and once he emphatically loves it, he’ll push the studio to help me out. However, he originally had the people behind “Urinetown” working for him, which is actually legit, so maybe I should try other pursuits?

I’m conflicted.

Short Short Story Genius

I found this gem of a short short story on a blog I have to peruse through for my work-study job and I thought I’d share it with you guys because it’s so fucking awesome:

Bedtime Story by Jeffrey Whitmore

“Careful, honey, it’s loaded,” he said, re-entering the bedroom.
Her back rested against the headboard. “This for your wife?”
“No, too chancy. I’m hiring a professional.”
“How about me?”
He smirked. “Cute. But who’d be dumb enough to hire a lady hit man?”
She wet her lips, sighting along the barrel.
“Your wife.”

That’s only 53 words long and though it’s short, it’s still a captivating story– I envision the characters in a smokey motel room somewhere in the Midwest (where rifles are more commonplace). The man has just had sex with this attractive woman he just met. Who cares if his wife thinks he’s out with the guys? He walks back in from the bathroom, they exchange these few lines and bang– he’s dead and his wife is avenged. Perhaps my favorite character in this short, short story is the one that never speaks– the wife. Imagine how cunning, jealous and evil she must be! But is she justified in killing her husband?

I know this has nothing to do with Britney Spears or the fact that it started snowing here today in New York, but I just really loved that story. Bravo Jeffrey Whitmore, even if I don’t know who you are.

AUSTRALIA: The Land Down Under HELL

About a year ago from today, Elaine and Josh hosted a fabulous “Showgirls” themed party that was complete with a living room stylized as a stripper bar and an adjacent room for special “private” dances. Coincidentally, many of our friends were hosting Australian exchange students through an exchange program run through our school, so we thought it would be fun for everyone if we invited our friends and their Aussies. However, the success of this party was hampered by none other than those of Australian birth.

Now, I’m not racist– I mean, we cordially invited them as guests to our party– but WTF is wrong is Australians these days? I mean they were wonderful in creating beautiful, popular people like Nicole Kidman and Russell Crowe (and we all know even he has quite the temper), but what went wrong with the rest of this forsaken continent?

I turn your attention to this very disturbing article:


That’s right folks. Australians, blessed with the opportunity to see Britney Spears live, actually physically left the venue demanding for their money back?!! Not only is this sacrilege, it’s also just plain stupid– they didn’t get to see Brit flying through the air during “Breathe on Me”!

They did the same thing to us at our “Showgirls” party, and now they’ve done it again to Britney Spears. Why can’t Australians ever stay at events they promise to attend? It’s obvious that Australians don’t understand or appreciate the beauty of beings like Britney Spears and Nomi Malone.

It’s worth mentioning that the people who left were in the cheap nosebleed seats and were probably old heffers. But they were also Australian, and I think this says more than any of the other descriptions.

So Boshers, next time you encounter an Australian, be wary. They might literally be from Down Under the Earth in the realms of Hell.

P.S. HOWEVER, all the Aussie Brit fans who loved the Perth concert– you are pardoned, and I hope you to stay strong amongst your ignorant neighbors!

Britney Bless One and All,


The New Acronym that Will Rival “WTF” and “FML”

Hi everyone,

I just wanted to quickly write this post to document for humanity the birth of the acronym that will soon rock the internet, popular culture and facebook statuses. This acronym was created solely by me (Josh) and I just wanted to make a clear record of the date and time I invented this acronym so that I can say, “hey, you that one acronym? I invented it, and here’s proof, BITCH.” I really hope it takes off and becomes as widely used as LOL, OMG, and OMFG, but you know, that’s is all wishful thinking because it’d be hard to become as prolific as those idol acronyms.

The acronym is: HFS


Pronunciation in conversation: Simply “H. F. S.” or the cuter “Hiffs!”

Example usage:

  1. To preface a statement, indicating it’s emphatic nature. “HFS, why’d you eat all the chips Nomi!”
  2. To punctuate an already emphatic statement, escalating emphasis. “Britney Spears touched my hand!!! HFS!!!” (Note: in these cases, “HFS” is almost always pronounced “H. F. S.” with emphasis placed on each individual letter for dramatic effect.)

I’d also like to use this opportunity to preview another acronym for you guys– let me know what you think!

The acronym is: GTS

Short for: “Giggles to self”

Pronunciation in conversation: Almost always pronounced as a single word, “gits”.

Example usage:

  1. A diminutive form of “LOL”, used when something was pretty funny, but not really funny enough to make you laugh out loud. This is more honest and frank than “LOL” most of the time, while at the same time is still complimentary and not too mean. Example: “haha gts.” (Note: due to it’s unemphatic nature, “GTS” is rarely followed by exclamation points.)

Elaine’s Tweets

Error: Twitter did not respond. Please wait a few minutes and refresh this page.

Josh’s Tweets

Contact Elaine and Josh!

Want to say something to us? Don't feel like you can post a comment? No problem! You can get in contact with us here.

Elaine and Josh: