The Bruceman

The death trap

Julia, Kimmy, Dan, Nicole, and I arrived in Jamaica last Wednesday, excited about the warm weather and the fun few days ahead of us. We waited for our shuttle in Montego Bay Airport, sipping on cold Red Stripes and getting ready for the next step of our journey--a 1.5 hour ride to Negril.

Our driver was a jolly Jamaican man named Clarkey. Mid-way through the drive, we were all staring out the window in awe of the pristine coast line when Clarkey announced that we were about to drive across "the death trap." Next thing we know, the bus is seemingly on two wheels and we hear a terrible scraping noise. Julia and I look out the back window of our shuttle to see several construction workers chasing us with their mouths hanging open...

The tire strapped to the bottom of the bus had fallen off and was laying in the middle of the road. We were stranded. But we all calmly sipped our beers, cracked up at the randomness of it all, and offered the men the ultimate thank-you present: 100-calorie snack bars.

Clarkey is a rare jewel on this earth. We will never forget him.

Animal Thug!

me: dave pennell's little sister is planning a BIRDSBORO BAR TOUR

Jess said she hopes Animal Thug is there

do u remember him?!

he'd do push ups in the hallway of schooland having milk chugging contests... with himselfAgatha: What was his real name?

me: i always thought Animal Thug was his real name

11:04 AM Agatha: Animalayus Thugowsky

me: he's apparently of Greek and Russian decent

Get away from me with your piss arm

Larry just called me into his office, acting like he had something very important to tell me. He did.

"I gave a urine sample at the doctor this morning. I pissed on my arm."

Now every time I see him, he's sniffing his cuff.

"Do I smell like pee?"

Best Person to Help With the DVD

Yesterday's office holiday party was straight-up an episode of "The Office." The president of the company donned a strange wig, spoke through a tube, and developed a weird English/Boston accent to present Dundee-style awards. I won "Best Person to Help With the DVD" since I busted a DVD player in the office recently. I will cherish the honor forever.

Larry accepting his "Biggest Baby" award.

Larry rockin' the jew fro

Make Your Own Larry Platt Doll

Hey Kids! Make Your Own Larry Platt Doll!

Step One: Ask mom for an egg.

Step Two: Draw two dots for eyes, a flat line for a mouth and a little "U" for a nose.

Step Three: Grab the brown marker and draw two eyebrows and a pathetic attempt at a goatee.

Step Four: Add some glasses and some side stubble to Larry's noggin and you're done!

Larry says: "You did real good, kid! I like the cut of your jib!"

Perm rods

Larry has a picture of himself with perm rods in his hair (from back when he had hair), and in it he's sporting the creepiest porn-stache you ever did see. He keeps this picture in his wallet. He keeps a picture of himself--with perm rods in his hair--in his wallet. That's all I have to say about that.

An ode to The Wild Child

It's time to talk about Julia Edwards. A Carol Bashore-in-training? Bhahah

Julia is one my best friends from college, and she is nothing short of ridiculously awesome. In college, we referred to her as "The Wild Child," but she has calmed substantially in the past few years. Nevertheless, prior to leaving for Jamaica, she announced that this trip will be "The Return of the Wild Child." Girl did not disappoint.

Julia is a champagne FIEND. After my funny (?) but un-touching wedding toast ("I knew Jeff was in love when he traded in his beer belt for a collared shirt and skipped happy hour to take Mel out to dinner...") Julia scoured the reception site for un-consumed flutes of champagne. She even convinced the father-of-the-bride to give her his. About six glasses later, Julia was wearing a red sparkly headband Rambo-style and dancing like a wild woman.

A conversation that occurred shortly after between Julia and one of the servers:

Julia: Is this taco salad?

Server: No mon, that's goat cheese salad. We're in Jamaica, not Mexico.

Two hours later, everyone was jumping in the pool in their outfits from the wedding. Julia, in a moment of clarity, worried about jumping in and ruining her dry clean-only dress. "I need to ask a mom what to do!" she ran around shouting. Of all the moms there, of course she asked Jeff's mom, Carol.

Carol: Just take off your clothes.

Julia: I don't want to look like a tramp.

Carol: You won't. Just do it.

And with that, Julia stripped down to her skivvies and jumped in the pool. Carol followed close behind.

Julia in her Wild Child days, wearing her infamous "Free Paris" tank, which she made while Paris Hilton was in jail for about 13 hours.

The prop bag

Jeff's mom, Carol, brought an ENTIRE suitcase FULL of gags and props to Jamaica. Mid-wedding reception, Carol kicked off her shoes, put on a wig, and jammed out on her blow-up guitar.

That is not a midget on the right. It's Mel's little brother, Brian. It would have been pretty hilarious if Carol had brought midgets too.

While swimming in the pool one afternoon, she started squirting me with water... from a syringe she had stolen from her dentist and packed in her prop-filled suitcase.

I would have given anything for that suitcase to have been searched at the airport. Imagine the security guard's face when he pulled out four fake moustaches and an axe made of tin foil.

It's urine... mine personally

I'm baaaaack! After a lovely five-day vacation in Jamaica (and Mel and Jeff's wedding!!!), I am back at work. This office has never looked more "Office Space"-like.

So Jeff's mom, Carol, was a total nutcase in Jamaica. I love her. Some of my favorite Carol conversations are as follows:

Carol, to everyone, while we waited for our Bob Marley shots: "Did you know that the top layer of that shot is urine? It is. And it's mine personally. Just for you."

Carol to Julia, with a wide grin on her face, as everyone said goodbye: "Nice to meet you, Julia, you slut."

Jeff's aunt: "What's the dress code for happy hour tonight?"

Carol: "NUDE."

The gateway hoard

Our art director loves A&E shows... so much so that he's recently convinced himself that he's one step away from becoming a hoarder. Yet, he has one of the cleanest offices here. He just uttered the following:

"I'm really worried I might turn into one of those people on Hoarders. First, its the shopping bags, then the 20 years of Martha Stewart Living... and pretty soon I've got rotting pumpkins and flattened animals. It's scary. Aaron [his boyfriend] said to me last night, ' A shopping bag filled with shopping bags is the gateway hoard.' I'm in trouble."

Really white trash

A conversation at yesterday's morning meeting:

Senior Editor: My eye has really been bothering me.

Executive Editor: When will we have copy for Bob's January--

Fabulous and Gay Art Director, completely cutting off Exec Editor: Ew! I hope you don't have pink eye. That is SUCH a WHITE TRASH thing to have.

SE: Ummm...

F&GAD: SERIOUSLY. Really white trash...

Did you poison me?!

Larry: That chicken chili your mom made was damn good. Is there any more?

Val: I'm full. Do you want the rest of mine?

L: Well, I don't know. Your cooties are in it. Why don't you want the rest?

V: I'm full.

L: DID YOU POISON ME?!

V: What?

L: Yea, okay, I'll take it. Thanks.

The first thing Larry said to me this morning...

"I'm still phlegmy. Isn't that a great word--'phlemgy'? You know why I like it? There are two surprises... the 'ph' and the 'g.' I think it's my favorite word. Because of the surprises, not because of the substance itself."

We do hungry, and we do it well

Best logo ever, courtesy of Exeter Family Restaurant:


"Who ordered the monty?"

Quote of the day

Courtesy of my mother:

"Do you know how embarrassing it is to watch homosexual sex with your 86-year-old mother? Your Aunt Janny brought a movie about trannies. Javier Bardem is in it. I can't do it. I'm taking a nap. If you want to watch sex scenes with your grandmother, head down to the sunroom."

A collection of Thanksgiving gchats...

me: i just caught my mom talking to herself
she was upstairs, the rest of us were downstairs
Melissa: what did she say?
me: "it doesn't even smell like turkey. it smells like ham"
not even in a whisper
in full-blown conversation tone
i yelled up, "MOM?! Who are you talking to?"
She said, "ohhhh... myself. is that weird? i guess it is..."
Melissa: haha! sandy!
me: just sittin' around, talking to herself about ham smells
Melissa: just another thursday!!

me: go for a goal: a double chin
Melissa: yes i'm gonna wear the baggy pants
me: oh hell yes
Melissa: imagine SMOKING before thanksgiving
me: HAHAHA
Melissa: that would end badly
me: my hippie aunt is here. I bet she's stoned
Melissa: why is melissa in a coma on the floor???
me: a little smokin', some serious food, a little Tekken 3, NAP
Melissa: give some to your grandma, she'll really open up
me: haha she doesn't need any weed, just a little vodka
which is bound to happen by 3pm

That was a good one

Larry just came behind my desk (I typically ban him from stepping back here, or anywhere within four feet of me), put his clammy hand on top of mine, and cracked the hell out of my knuckles. I SCREAMED, and he yelled "Yeahhhhh!" like a frat boy and then pumped his fist in the air and squealed, "That was a good one!"

Mom be clubbin'

I just remembered my favorite thing Cierra said yesterday:

"Your mom is pretty and fun. I bet she'd have a good time at the club."

He does stink

I hung out with my little sister, Cierra, yesterday. Mid-afternoon she announced that she was craving a strawberry milkshake. Who am I to deny a 15-year-old girl a milkshake? So we go to McDonalds in a shady part of town and wait in line.

In walks a normal-looking guy in his late 20s (if you think looking like a cross between Kanye West and Johnny Knoxville is normal). He didn't look crazy... but neither does Tyra Banks, and we all know how she turned out.

So he's standing behind us in line, by himself, and says in a very loud and declarative tone, "I'M HUNGRY."

Ok, so he's hungry.

One minute later, "I SMELL. I HAVEN'T SHOWERED IN A WEEK."

What? Who is he talking to?

Cierra is staring at the guy with a "You be nuts" face. Then she takes a sip of her strawberry milkshake, looks at me, and says, "He's right. He does stink."

Yellow or vagina?

This conversation really just occurred--

V: I'm running down to the bodega. Want anything?

L: Can you grab me a vitamin water?

V: Yellow or orange?

L: I thought you said "yellow or vagina?"

V: I hate you.

[manic laughter from Larry]

Beard wig

There's a homeless man on 16th Street who calls the top step of an abandoned building home. Next to all his worldy possessions--a sleeping bag, some extra sweaters (i.e., all normal stuff)--is a full wig and beard wig ON A WIG STAND. It looks very much like this:

I am captivated by this... mostly because homeless guy has a full head of hair. Why the need for a wig and beard wig? His stoop is right next to G Lounge, so maybe he puts it on to lure in the cougars pouring from there late night?

This will be my day

I stopped in at the bank this afternoon, and as I was standing at the teller counter, the man one teller over turns and stares directly at me and says--in a deep, terrifying tone--"This will be my day. FOREVER." He had a thick Eastern European accent and spoke so dramatically that you'd think he was performing the role of a villain in an off-Broadway version of a Shakespearian play.

I got the giggles. And I got 'em bad. He then said, "My life. MY DAY" as he continued staring. I turned the other way, hid my face in my hands and giggled like a school girl as he continued his intense diatribe.

I have since decided that he must be a Count. And then, after thinking about it for the past 30 minutes, I realized who he reminds me of:

That's right, ladies and gents--Count Chocula was at the PNC at 19th and Walnut today.

If I go missing...

A conversation I just had with Larry, regarding a work party we went to last week--

L: The only reason Stephen Starr came was so he could get a personalized note from the Police Commissioner to get out of parking tickets.

V: Why don't you get one of those?

L: I would, but i'd probably take advantage and see if it works while I stood over a dead body... [slowly walks away]

Wanna see a ferret?

Weekend highlights:

• Eating pounds upon pounds of soul food with Ashley. Passing four old men on our walk home who were strolling down the street singing "My Girl" in PERFECT harmonies. I think it may have actually been The Temptations.
• Rachel and Brian showing up on my doorstep, the drunkest people alive, at 2:30am after slugging a magnum of lukewarm white wine in the middle of Jim's Steaks. I slept in the living room and found them on Sunday morning sleeping on the floor of my bedroom, with no blankets or pillows, because they were worried about making my bed smell like cheese steaks.
• Brian stepping in a homeless woman's feces. The subsequent dry heaving that resulted from all.
• Watching a runaway horse carriage in old city, like a scene from Gladiator.
• Strolling through the frozen food section of BJs with Erin when a little boy came over to me and whispered, "Hey miss... want to see a ferret?" "Duh," I replied. And with that, he opens the top of his bag... in it is a ferret tucked in a plush little ferret bed.

I'm not raking leaves with a mop

12:22 PM Julia: i forgot to tell you this!I was running on Monday and some old lady stopped me and asked me to take her trash to the curbI was kind of annoyed with stopping my run but was figured it was one good deed I could doso i take her trash to the curb and then she's like, "Can you rake my leaves?"I'm thinking "What? you don't even know me... and i don't have a rake!" So i brushed them to the side with my hands and basically told her, "That's it." She seemed content but i really think she wanted me to go all out.

12:23 PM me: HAHAHHAHAHAHAHHAHA

how old was this woman?!

Julia: she had to be in her 80s... she had curlers in her hair at 5 pm!

12:24 PM me: HAHAHHA

12:25 PM

i love that she just yelled over to you

Julia: yeah, i went over because i thought something was wrong

geesh

old people and their schemes

me: haha did she yell a death curdling scream?

Julia: haha no... she was basically like "hey hey, come over here"

12:26 PM not falling for that one again... she'll have me shoveling snow in the winter

haha

12:27 PM

you know, i left out the part when i said i didn't have a rake and she said she had a mopno thanks... i'm not raking leaves with a mop!

so i used my hands and feet

12:30 PM me: HAHAHHAHAHAH

A MOP

Squeal like a girl

We have mice at the office. On the 36th floor. Some blame our articles editor, Bob, who spends entire days meandering around the office eating scones. Larry just said, "If I see a mouse, I will stand up on my desk, hop on my toes, and squeal like a girl."

There's not a doubt in my mind that he's serious.

Keep ya posted.

Bachelorette: Part 3

The final chapter to this horrendously boozy, fun weekend. A gchat conversation I just had with Mel, as we perused her wedding playlist:

me: bhahha "All I Want for Christmas is You" is on here?

Melissa: that was SO fun on your playlist

me: wait, did we listen to that song on Saturday night?!

Melissa: YES you goober

me: HAHAHAHHA

Melissa: we all sang SO loud

all off-key and deep, a chorus of man voices

me: I have VAGUE recollections

Melissa: me too, of course

me: HAHAHA that's amazing

The thought of that ridiculous song blasting from a hotel room at the uber-nice Water Club, on the 7th of November, is just glorious to me. I hope that's what we were jamming to when this picture was taken:

I finish this "Bachelorette weekend" trilogy by pledging to not down another sip of alcohol until landing in Jamaica on December 9th. My wallet and body will thank me. My Christmas playlist will not.

Bachelorette: Part 2

Moving on to Saturday... We all checked into our rooms at The Water Club, had a low-key group dinner at Izakaya, and then headed back to the hotel to "relax and have a few drinks" before going to mur.mur. It started out nicely enough...

And quickly progressed into THIS:

Bachelorette: Part 1

This past weekend was Mel's bachelorette party. On Friday night, I made dinner for everyone at my apartment. We lit candles and sipped wine and it was all very lovely. Fast forward four hours...

And another hour after that...

Under no circumstances

Mel has been working on the playlist for her Jamaican wedding next month. She just sent me the spreadsheet so I could throw in some suggestions. My favorite part was at the end, where she included the following category:

UNDER NO CIRCUMSTANCES-- Celebration Chicken Dance Macarena Cotton Eyed Joe Electric Slide

Dish pan hands

This e-mail was just sent to the entire office, and I pretty much love the last sentence:

Taking some steps toward going green: In lieu of using paper cups, we've given every staff member a Philadelphia magazine coffee mug. Drop it in the dishwasher and you don't have to worry about dish pan hands.

Sleep it off

I just had the following conversation with Larry, who is home sick today (and speaking in the same voice a perfectly healthy 7-year-old uses to convince his mom he can't go to school the day of the big math test):

L: I'm not feeling well today. What if I have the swine flu? A 42-year-old man in New Jersey just died of the swing flu. I'm 46.

V: I'm sure you're fine. Just sleep it off.

L: What if I fall asleep and never wake up? [bitchy little fake cough]

I have no words

Good ol' days

My best friend from childhood, Amy, is in town this week, and I couldn't be more excited. We went on a lovely girl date yesterday, having dinner in front of a fireplace and then strolling around Rittenhouse on the crisp fall night. After acting like such adults last night, we're going to spend tonight choreographing a dance routine to "Jingle Bell Rock" while wearing matching fluorescent track suits--just like the good ol' days.

Just another day, dancing with Mr. T...

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Return of the photobomb

Mel and Jeff have been photobomb-ed like crazy lately, and I likey.

What would NPH do?

I just interviewed a local theater actor who is currently in L.A. He mentioned that last week he did karaoke with Neil Patrick Harris at a giant bar filled with magicians. "We sang Bohemian Rhapsody... went straight for the glory." Don't forget to ask yourself at least once per day...

Makes me want a margarita

I just accidentally squashed a small Mexican man in a set of revolving doors when he tried to jump in the same door section as me. Mel's reaction? "Hearing that makes me want a margarita."

Oceanus Hotel

I spent this past weekend at my parents' new beach condo in Delaware. Lauren P. joined the ridiculousness as we ran around with Ma and Pa Yeags and their ridiculously entertaining friends. We hiked; walked around the beach and bay; drank my dad's horrifyingly strong gin and tonics; and swam in the indoor pool.

Some highlights:

• Getting yelled at by a 12-year-old boy. A snapping "GOOGLE IT!" was his response to just about everything.
• A costume parade in Rehobeth on Saturday morning. The best costume was kids dressed up as crabs, sitting at a picnic table... eating baby dolls. The kids were about 5 years old.
• The following hotel, whose name just cracked up my dad and his friends. "I wouldn't want to clean the pool at the OceANUS hotel!" Turns out 60 year-old-men act exceptionally similar to 12-year-olds. GOOGLE IT.

Charlie bit me

This makes me smile like a damn fool. Char-lay!

Ridicule Bob

Work is BUSY again and will be until mid-November. Nevertheless, today had two important highlights:

• Our lifestyle editor gave me a tube of concealer... for black women.
• I found out Larry is friends with Kato Kaelin. Seriously.

Tomorrow we have an all-day "office retreat" at some swanky hotel in the city. I just received the formal agenda, written by one of my co-workers. The following are among our scheduled activities:

Noon-12:05pm: Impressions by Larry. A side-by-side comparison of Larry "doing" Matt and Matt "doing" himself. Judging by applause.

1-1:05pm: Ridicule Bob. Group discussion.

2-2:05pm: Judee von Seldeneck* and Georges Perrier* have a chat.

*Both roles will be played by Michael

Also on the memo:

Be ready for some team-building activities: We’ll be doing trust falls, tug-of-war, networking exercises, and the “balloon games” that are explained here: http://wilderdom.com/games/descriptions/gamesballoons.html

We're gonna need to put a brassiere on him

This past weekend was my grandma's 86th birthday party in New York. My grandma is the sweetest woman in the world, but she never disappoints with the back-handed "compliments," which just leave my cousins and I cracking up like maniacs. Some of my favorites from this weekend:

"Oh Valerie, you're so thin! Not as thin as Carrie, but yea..."

"That's a cute hat, Nicole. You've always had a very special sense of style."

And then there's the classic no-nonsense grandma comments:

On the 8-year-old son of my cousin -- "If Justin eats any more food today, we're gonna need to put a brassiere on him. He's a BIG BOY."

On my perfectly average weight cousin, as she pinches his stomach, "What do you have under there, Sean? Two tires?"

My grandma also insists that we sing "Happy Birthday" FIVES times in a row... for each person in the family with an October birthday. Oh and there is also five cakes. And whenever you enter a room at one of these family functions, everyone claps and chants your name.

We all wake up the morning after these family parties with a serious hangover and a plate of bacon in our faces, courtesy of Grandma, who thinks it's sweet all the cousins got "stewed together."

Did I mention that at one point we all stood in a circle and did the chicken dance? There were no children there at that point. I've never seen my grandma happier.

His snoring keeps me up all night

OK this is just getting ridiculous, but I need to post something else before I forget about it. A conversation I just had with Larry:

L: I'm congested. Listen! [forced loud hacking noise]

V: Did you take some benadryl?

L: Oh yea, I take that every day whether I feel sick or not.

V: Good idea. What about a breathe right strip? It would look great with your turtleneck.

L: I wear those at night! Actually, do you think we could make one of those for my cat, Rocky? His snoring keeps me up all night.

Wink wink

A conversation I just had with the 80-year-old publishing magnate who owns this company:

Me: We need to screen Sam's documentary soon. Are you in the office next week?

Him: Well, Valerie... I'm getting a colonoscopy on Tuesday [wink].