Joselyn Hughes: Blog

Poverty.

joselyn@joselynhughes.com (Joselyn Hughes) — Fri, 27 Jun 2008 21:07:00 GMT

3:47pm, June 27th.

Washington Mutual bank; 5th Ave and 14th St. Brooklyn, New York.

I place a grocery bag worth of collected loose change on the counter.

Me: “I have cash to deposit too, but I’m sure you have to count this first.”

Cashier person: “We don’t count this.”

Me: “What? You’re a bank.”

Cashier person: “You have to put it in rolls.”

Me: “What!? That’s ludicrous.”

Cashier person: “We don’t count it.”

Me: “Where the hell am I supposed to get rolls?”

Cashier person: “You buy them here.”

Me: “So I am supposed to pay to give you money?” (pause) “You are a bank, right?”

Cashier person: (growing sick of my attitude) “Yes, we are a bank.”

Me: “But I am supposed to BUY rolls from you, and put fifteen pounds of loose change into them? You don’t just have a machine that counts it? That seems odd.”

Cashier person: “We do, but it’s not for customers.”

Me: “That’s unbelievable. That is the dumbest thing I’ve ever heard. I’ll be writing a letter about this.”

*awkward moment

Cashier person: (to line of people watching this) “Next.”

Being poor is awful.

The Winner.

joselyn@joselynhughes.com (Joselyn Hughes) — Sat, 14 Jun 2008 03:46:00 GMT

This is my favorite thing I’ve ever seen. Absolutely. It’s incredible on so many levels, and I just want to share it with you. Note: it starts off a little slow, but just wait it out. The. Best. Thing. Ever.

Watch it again. I just can’t help myself.

I don’t know what it is that makes me so happy.
...it’s not because it’s a midget in a horrible special effects costume… it’s not because the guy is more effeminate in four minutes than I’ll ever be in my lifetime… it’s not because of the ridiculous “baby fetus” prop… it’s not because it’s actually a cruel, cruel show… it’s not because he said he saw “a demon” and believed it… it’s not because that’s a version of everyone’s worst nightmare…it’s not because of the “bad energy” he felt or because he suggested they bring back “guns and mace”...it’s not because the sound effects- like the extra shots- are so perfectly melodramatic and added much later to the clip in order to drag the viewer in… it’s not because at the end, he says, “I really do work for PETA” as the midget slaps the dust off his hands… and it’s not because even though he acted like he had fun and it was a cool prank, you know he NEVER talked to that friend ever again.

It’s because, as a package, it’s the most incredibly funny thing that I may have ever seen. I think.

Now watch the runner up:

I would have sooo known about this already if I had cable. Damn you, poverty!

Hell or something like it.

joselyn@joselynhughes.com (Joselyn Hughes) — Sun, 08 Jun 2008 13:44:00 GMT

It’s 8:31 in the morning, and it’s 85 degrees outside.

Here’s something you may not know about New York: there is no spring here. The city of New York jumps from what is one of the most long, miserable winters to one of the most long, miserable summers you’ve ever experienced. Except it’s not summer, it’s hell. Hot, flaming hell.

People find out I’m from Chicago and ninety percent of the time respond with, “Isn’t it just freezing there?” Sure, buddy. It’s “freezing.” I nod my head to avoid the argument I am more than willing to start because the truth is much different. Chicago is not much colder than New York, and it lacks that extra NY humidity that chills you to your bones. The humidity that exists because NY is next to an ocean and it pours rain here like some kind of urban rainforest that unfortunately isn’t being threatened to be cut down by any logging industry any time soon. The same humidity that kicks my natural instincts to fight for survival in when the subway platform reaches a stifling 102 degrees, the trains become mysteriously more sluggish, and some baby is making a sound that cannot be described other than it is the devil’s spawn itself. It’s as if my furious gaze has begun some kind of transformation for the ruler of hell to turn into its true form in its nine hundred dollar, four wheeling space stroller. I am ready to fight the demon seed baby in this urine coated, mini version of hell; I am.
So no, it’s not better than Chicago’s weather in New York. I’m driven to talk about fighting babies for chrissake.

This is a city that gets so hot, you have to plan to plant yourself in front of your window AC unit, take part in this country’s disgusting overuse of energy, and just enjoy, enjoy, enjoy that cold air in order to get through some days. A summer where you are forced to relinquish any hope of looking attractive; as sweat soaks through your lightest clothing, pours down your face and pools at your feet, victorious in its destruction of your ego. A place where conversation is dominated- no, fully comprised- of people discussing its heat until its bitter cold returns and takes over its nasty conversational throne. And we are left to endure its reign just as we pay its costly rent, wait in its overrated lines, and surrender to its domination of the masses. Because after all, this is New York City. If you can’t make it here, you can’t make it anywhere. Except for hell, which is quite similar in more than just its climate.

It’s now 8:43 am, and it’s 87 degrees.

I’ll be in front of my air conditioner.

MILK '08!

joselyn@joselynhughes.com (Joselyn Hughes) — Mon, 02 Jun 2008 04:28:00 GMT

Hello friends!

BOY, have I got a special treat for you!

…By means of a person who is more than horrified to have been sent to this site (for reasons I cannot explain at this very moment,) I give you Cleveland’s KISS FM’s latest and greatest contest: MILK 2008!

For those of you uninformed, that’s Cleveland’s “Mother’s I’d Like to Kiss” contest. Let me repeat.

That’s Cleveland’s “Mother’s I’d Like to Kiss” contest.

Cleveland’s.
“Mother’s I’d Like to Kiss.”
Cleveland’s.

Now, don’t get me wrong. Cleveland’s a great town, and I love some people very dearly that came from it’s beer bellied bosom. Hell, I love anything Midwestern!

But I’m not sure I love what I witnessed on above said site upon browsing their “MILK” contestants last evening.

Just go, and enjoy.

And if you want a preview, please, please, take a deep breath and soak up some of Cleveland’s best below.

DRUMROLL PLEASE…..
And the winner is (by my standards)...

I don’t even know what to say. If you need me, I’ll be rocking in a corner talking to myself, praying to God my mother never, ever, ever, ever does something like this.

Ever.
Ever.

...ever.

Open Letter...

joselyn@joselynhughes.com (Joselyn Hughes) — Fri, 30 May 2008 08:20:00 GMT

Open letter to the Douchebag Hipster wearing an American Apparel skin tight v-neck, ball hugging black skinny jeans, and o-so-stylish checkered vans who poke/stabbed me in my right eye Friday night at an overpacked, overpriced Lower East Side establishment and upon my initial retraction in pain and surprise, replied, “whoa” like Joey on Blossom and giggled instead of offering an apology like any decent human person would do upon injuring another being, especially one he saw icing my injury at the bar with a tecate can only moments later:

Dear Asshole,

You’re the reason I hate Manhattan.

Love,

The girl giving you ONE evil eye.

Shitstorm!

joselyn@joselynhughes.com (Joselyn Hughes) — Wed, 28 May 2008 05:24:00 GMT

I woke up his morning thinking that today was going to be like every other day.

I got out of bed, brushed my teethies, and then took the dog downstairs for a walk. Before we headed out, I realized I forgot a turd bag and popped inside real quick to grab one.

In the time it took to get back outside, a 15 foot tree branch had broken off the tree in front of my building smashing a car, setting off all kinds of car alarms and landing in the middle of the street where it blocked all traffic. A line of cars quickly backed up and began honking their horns. After hazily staring at the hot mess in front of me for a couple minutes, I began walking the dog towards the little coffee shop in my neighborhood for my morning coffee and bagel. I tied up Jones right outside the shop, as per usual, and headed inside to order.

In the three minutes it took to complete this transaction, I returned outside to find a man, outside of his car, screaming at another man who had hit him with the school bus he was driving full of disabled children. I sucked down some caffeine in a vain attempt to awake myself from this odd dream, but to no avail. It was real. And as I slowly ambled away from the second hot mess I had witnessed in twenty minutes, I prepared myself for a day full of mishaps and utter disaster.

Because, obviously, one observes two events like this in a row and naturally- logically- prepares for more. I was the actor in the movie, and some cosmic director was watching me from above, cueing repeated bizarre events like clockwork. Movie’s a hit, director’s a genius, and the actor a comedic goldmine. I was ready for it.

But that was all I got. Just those two things. One, two, nothing.

I spent my day looking like a batty batty coo coo; looking around for things to fall, explode, start on fire… and got nothing. And what, may I ask, is that for a day? When my day starts out shitty, I want a real shitstorm of a day. I don’t want things to get better, I want things to get worse. Much worse. Because then, when the passing bus on the corner of Broadway and Houston splashes you after the bottoms of your grocery bags fall out, your boyfriend dumps you, and you lose your job, it’s hilarious. Ha ha, look at me, Silly McGoeswrong. It’s just “one of those days.”

I was ready for “one of those days,” and I barely got anything. I even shrugged at Jones at one point. He understood, and he was also disappointed in the rest of the day.

Ah well, at least I had a hell of a twenty minutes.
I guess you can’t really beat a bus-full of disabled children. (They are all unharmed by the way. Because if they were, and THEN nothing happened afterwards, I would really be upset.)

Work it out.

joselyn@joselynhughes.com (Joselyn Hughes) — Thu, 13 Mar 2008 03:31:00 GMT

Hey dudes!
New site is being “worked out.” Hope you like it, and like THESE people working it out.

Question.

joselyn@joselynhughes.com (Joselyn Hughes) — Thu, 06 Mar 2008 04:37:00 GMT

have you ever been waiting for a bus or attempting to hail a cab on a corner and thought to yourself, “man, i must really look like a hooker right now.”

but not because you’re standing on a corner;

but because you’re wearing a hot pink minidress, five inch white patent knee high boots, fishnet stockings, and a bright red curly haired wig?

good. me neither.

just wanted to check.

love,
your mother.

Who said money couldn't...

joselyn@joselynhughes.com (Joselyn Hughes) — Wed, 05 Mar 2008 04:35:00 GMT

i’ll take 4 friendships, please.

I'm very Busey.

joselyn@joselynhughes.com (Joselyn Hughes) — Thu, 28 Feb 2008 04:25:00 GMT

have you guys seen this wacko? have you seen it?! you should. get ready:

and after that, it gets even better. enjoy!

if you’ve ever seen my favorite movie- willy wonka and the chocolate factory (2005 version)- throughout it, johnny depp keeps telling mike teavee that he’s mumbling and that he can’t understand a thing mike says. every time mike teavee tries to say something; even though mike is speaking perfectly fine.

and it is one of my favorite parts or lines uttered of any movie, ever. hilarious.

that girl interviewing gary busey is around twelve or thirteen years old.

so it’s like gary busey is willy wonka and has completely lost his mind. (even his and willy wonka’s teeth are similar!)

except willy wonka is not a real person, and gary busey is.

LOVE it.

Warned.

joselyn@joselynhughes.com (Joselyn Hughes) — Mon, 25 Feb 2008 04:36:00 GMT

this is a little cartoon I drew for my ex. (i’m being generous about the title, btw)

it’s to warn him of the dangers of his recent sexual exploits; which he felt the need to tell me multiple details about while also asking if i was still interested in hooking up “later in the week.”

ahh, what a quality of men i date.

something’s not right here..
remembering his male slut sex with whore in specific position he decided he wanted to tell me all about.
realizing perhaps drunken, irresponsible sex he can’t remember with whores, particularly sex he tells me all about, revealing details that are so abhorent, shameless, repulsive, vile, despicable, and gross may lead to problems. like his dick burning. things like that.
his dick falling off.

most deservedly so, if you ask me.

he thought it was funny.

i think it’ll be funny when it really falls off.

SCENE.

Look here, mister.

joselyn@joselynhughes.com (Joselyn Hughes) — Mon, 18 Feb 2008 04:25:00 GMT

i have a slight problem with people who stare.

it mainly occurs on the subway, as people are forced to sit and stand across from one another for lengths of time.

people don’t have many options on the subway. they can look at a map, a mangled foot ad, the homeless guy or each other.
(i always pick the homeless guy. don’t judge.)

but i never pick the other people on the train.
it’s awkard and rude.
i don’t need to look at them for any reason, (especially if they’re asking for money) so i don’t.

but there is a whole camp of people out there who DO. and they’re not looking at your shoes, or your knuckles, they’re looking at your face. right in your eyes.
they find it necessary to hold that stare. lock that eye contact and never let it go.

they stare right at you without remorse, shame, or manners. they’re ruthless.

normally, one gets caught checking another person out and immediately pretends it wasn’t happening. a quick eye dash to the right or left, quizzical expression on the face and a sigh of relief. “phew! got through that one. what an interesting piece of string i’ve found here. la dee da…”

but the starasaurus rex people don’t look away, ever.
it drives me nuts.

i used to know how to deal with staring.

in school, someone would stare and you’d stare right back and say something like, “why don’t you take a picture, it will last longer!?” or “can i HELP you!?” or you’d widen your eyes and stare back as you shake your head a little bit, making a nasty face that doesn’t need words to tell them to stop.

i’ve used those devices in the past. many a time. mainly because that’s the last time i’ve seen people stare like this.

but i’m not sure that’s the way to handle this kind of staring.

perhaps that’s because someone who gets on a public transportation system and refuses to lose eye contact with an innocent civilian is probably mentally “risky” in some capacity.
probably has the desire to “rape and kill,” “kidnap and kill,” or “kill and kill.”
probably is making eye contact because the first person they make eye contact with that day is always the one they kill first. that day.

you know, they’re nutsos.

so i think next time i get a looney toon that won’t stop staring i’ll just leave the car, instead of staring back and saying something like, “RUDE, MUCH?”

i’m not sure i want to get murdered today.