From Emerz, For My Consideration

Emerz always called Serena sloppy, hastily thrown together. He prefers the cold calculation of Blair, and after all, he reminds me, she was the one masturbating all season (busted by the housekeeper. High school!). How Serena (Jenny?) of her. How like Blair to appropriate their best qualities and make them her own. And now this (I mean, she is kind of a spy): And then this: That's so Emerz, except he makes the Bad Girls Go Worse.

Emerz Resists The Recession

Emerz and I are walking through a nearly empty mall, silent but for the sound of his flip-flops thwacking the once-polished floor. We consider empty storefronts, blooming garbage cans, the roving packs of dogs, like a less-crowded Pompeii. We recall the vacant parking lot we trudged through, the shuttered Applebees. Suddenly there is an oasis, a girl walks out of Lady Footlocker. She considers us, her fellow shoppers, travellers, for a moment, before turning away and heading for the (she'll soon realize) stagnant escalator. "Well, she looks like about a million bucks," I say to Emerz. "Yeah," he says, "as in, she could be lost in a night."

Emerz On The Way Home From Fleck, Kuehnle, Potter and Potter

True Life: Memorial Day With Emerz

It's the start of the summer, Memorial Day weekend, although the DJ on 105.5, the Sound of the Long Island Sound, reminds us all that summer doesn't officially begin until the "equinox."

The weather is here, we wish we were beautiful. We play a quick round of croquet and then make a break for the den and the True Life marathon playing all weekend. We watch the sad plight of Frankie, who suffers from a panic disorder and therefore cannot cross the bridge from Staten Island to the freedom and beauty of New Jersey. We watch Jayden James cry after losing the AVN Best New Starlet award. We watch lives unfold: dreams dissipate, diseases are discovered, addictions are acknowledged. It's like beginners Intervention. We're waiting for True Life: I'm Pregnant. Actually, we're waiting for True Life: Losing The Baby Weight. After all, having the baby is easy, you just give it to your Mom. But who do you give the baby weight to?

From The Try Harder, BET! Department

From the Try Harder, BET! Department:

College Hill: South Beach, Episode "Ribgate.": The divided house gets worse when Kay eats Kyle's ribs.

Emerz and I Discuss Recovery, Things In The Way Of

Emerz and I are on the phone, talking ups and downs, ins and outs, the revolving door policy at Silver Hill and Hollywood Video. I say that Owen Wilson hasn't done shit in a while now, not counting the movie starring that dog and Marley or any late-night romps at some museum.

"He's in recovery, getting off that H," says Emerz.

"Hudson?" I say. "And here I was thinking I was the only one who watched Bride Wars with a belt around my neck."

Emerz Is So Vain, He Probably Thinks This Blog Is About Him

Personal History

I might as well tell Emerz that I basically know Kate Bosworth. I know two people in her entourage. I've seen Superman Returns. And as long as we're in the dick measuring business and pulling out the big guns (Liam Neeson-style) I should mention that I was in an 8th grade production of West Side Story with John Tucker from John Tucker Must Die. Naturally he was a Shark and I was a Jet.

Emerz Wears Sandals to the Shower

"Have you seen Dorm Life?" I ask Emerz. It's a web series, so I don't judge.

"How would I even know if it was any good?" asked Emerz. "Unless it's about a one-bedroom apartment five miles from campus."

"You should pitch that show," I tell him. I've seen the treatment and it is pretty good, but there's already been a show about nothing. Nothing has been done.

Emerz on Helicopter Parenting

Emerz wants to know what's the deal with kids in bike helmets, girls demanding condoms, fathers dropping out of the market and plopping 80 G's in checking. Risk-aversion is death to Emerz. I tell him it's something called helicopter parenting. I tell him he wouldn't understand, mostly because his dad owns a helicopter.

Forty Love

Emerz and I watched Wimbledon, marveling at the lack of chemistry between a slumming Paul Bettany and a striving Dunst. We decided that finding sexual compatibility is a lot like finding a tennis partner. Either they don't have the right shoes or they were ranked juniors. Some have weak serves, or too much spin, or embarrassing mannerisms, and some have laser-like finishes and leave you panting in the pro shop. Either way, there's nothing like peeling back the tin and smelling a new set of balls.

Grosse Pointe Blank Check

From the Tough To Gather Sympathy Department (see also, Schadenfreude):

http://www.nytimes.com/2009/05/10/fashion/10michigan.html?ref=fashion

"Where the e’s are silent but still do all the work..." Gross.

And, to pass the long hours of unemployment and social freefall:

http://www.lazydork.com/movies/grosse.htm

Walking Home With Emerz

I love the strange, introspective voicemails I get from Emerz on his walk home from the office. "It's raining in Manhattan," he says, and what does that even mean, besides everything?

A Long Lunch For Emerz

Emerz is taking an early, long lunch, perfecting the windsor knot Downey Jr. wore in Ally McBeal. I mean, there are some parallels when you think about it, and Mr. Fleck insisted. He didn't insist on getting soy sauce all over that batch of memos, but everyone is allowed one mistake. Emerz is allowed seven.

School's Out For...Ever?

Emerz always thought his plans for the future were too big to fail, like, say, AIG (in which he has, had, a vested interest) or Liam Neeson's penis. Turns out he was right. He starts tomorrow at Fleck, Kuehnle, Potter and Potter.