By itself, celery is more than forgettable – but in a salad, it’s a slam dunk crunch! A new friend you suddenly can’t live without, but a nobody nerd dick on its own. A wash outside of a greater ecosystem. It’s alright to be a role player, we must all accept ourselves!!!!!!!!!!!! If you are celery, you are Scotty Pippen. And how honorable to serve up so many assists/bites full of melded textures that would not be possible without the unsung heroics of less heralded ingredients. Love urself. Except if ur a cucumber, then u are Paul Pierce n got carried off the court like a little baby in the 2008 NBA finals and need to take a firm look in the mirror about who u are and what ur message is.
In our latest moment from Prism Horizons, Linda has a blockage, while Gail is bat shit crazy.
Hello and Good Morning to all our fans around the globe,
I am pleased as punch to share with you the latest vid from my groundbreaking n critically-acclaimed web series, Prism Horizons. Pls also feel free to visit our website at PrismHorizons.com. Thx v. much for your support.
TWO DAYS LATER…
Blair: So, have you talked to Ted from Atlanta?
Blair: Did you guys hook up?
Blair: So why did you even tell me about him then?
Clair: You asked if I met a man.
Blair: I think I’m in love with my spin instructor.
Clair: God, you need a hobby. I knew you and Jason stopped fucking. I could feel it.
Blair: Relationships are complicated, something you know nothing about.
Clair: We should still hike the John Muir trail from Wild, quit our jobs and just do it for 90 days. I could finally teach you transcendental meditation.
Blair: Oh you have a job now?
Clair: I’m computer coding again.
Blair: Do you know how to do that even slightly?
Clair: Why don’t you wanna hike the John Muir trail? I would think you’d be very interested in something that burns so many calories.
Blair: Ha ha ha, hysterical, are you a comedian or something? I’m a serious writer. In fact, I get paid for it. How much do you make doing comedy?
Clair: You should take Jason to a strip club and buy him a lap dance. Maybe that’s just what he needs to get the little guy up again? I went to one in Atlanta called the Clermont Lounge where all the ladies are the age of grandmas.
Blair: Of course you did.
Clair: This stripper named Little Bo Peep pulled me aside and told me I looked too pure and innocent to be in such a place.
Blair: She must have been very old. And blind. And not at all there.
Clair: I told her I’ve done a bunch of mushrooms.
Blair: What is wrong with you?
Clair: Gotta run. Enjoy spin class and the lust in your heart for your clearly homosexual instructor.
It’s been awhile, I’ve barely seen Clair. She’s been running around this loveless city like a mad man doing her comedy and drinking in every bar south of 14th street as you guys know she likes to do. I really think a boyfriend would be good for her. Maybe it would make her slow down, have a dinner at home once in awhile, cure her exhaustive and yet simultaneously un-satiated sexual appetite. I think it could make her more pleasant on the whole. I don’t mean to say that a woman isn’t complete without a man, but really one must be mindful that youth is fleeting. Anyway, what do I know, I’m just a serious writer and journalist with my life together (and a conventionally successful boyfriend) – ha ha ha, is it condescension if it’s true my darlings? I don’t mean to brag but my savings account has become really impressive and I’m doing spin class upwards of four times a week these days (even when I’m tired (!)), Clair could stand to listen to me re: a few things.
Comfy Chicken from Homegrown in ATL
Clair: How’s your book coming along?
Blair: Did you even read my long-form piece about Ted Cruz and comedy in Salon?
Clair: No, why would I read Salon? I don’t cower to that pedantry garbage.
Blair: You’re terribly inconsiderate of people’s feelings. Also, I’m on to your subtweets, don’t think I haven’t been reading them. “So weird when your writer friends get sticks up there asses the second they get a byline”- not cool, Clair. How was Atlanta? Did you find new vegans to shame?
Clair: I didn’t shame any vegans. Atlanta doesn’t have vegans, it’s a hearty and respectable town akin to old shoe leather. The bloody mary’s come in monstrous buckets – like fish tanks of delicious food-laden poison. Bacon, croutons, and a garden of vegetables spilling out the top, audacious but without pretense. You need a fork. They were strong but I got an extra shot of vodka in each to be sure, not trying to get soft. Atlanta’s charming as hell.
Blair: Clair. You need to cut down so you don’t end up like Charlie Sheen, you’re a lady. Your blood pressure – with how much red meat you eat – Spring is almost here you know. I wouldn’t say these things if I didn’t care about you. Thin is still in.
Clair: Boy, did I have some drinks down there. My head swelled up like a basketball by day 2.
Blair: Did you meet any nice Southern men that were kind enough to overlook your truck driver habits and general personality?
Clair: I met this one guy, Ted.
Blair: Ted! That’s great, what does he do?
Clair: Who cares? Did you know meat sweats are real?
Blair: You’re getting older.
Clair: Yeah, come to think of it, I never asked what he did.
Blair: What did you like about him? Was he hot? Over 6 feet tall I hope.
Clair: Hot, yes. Good looking, no. Not over 6 feet tall, but he had je nais se quois up the wazoo if you know what I mean.
Blair: No, I haven’t the faintest idea of what you consider “je nais se quois” to be.
Clair: Not boring. Not a lame, not a vegan. Not a cheesedick. Not super conventionally good looking.
Blair: You genuinely disgust me.
Clair: I have to go watch “Going Clear” now.