Saturday, December 27, 2008
Nerd alert
I know I've been MIA lately, but that's because I've literally been up to my tits in lab work that needed to get done six months ago. Also, I took a break for a hot second to guest on my mentor's podcast, This Week in Virology. I think it's a testament to how lab-intensive my life has been of late that the only time I take a break is to talk virology.
So if you want to hear my sexy voice talking with a bunch of other sexy-voiced science nerds about viruses, give it a listen. The podcast is geared toward a lay audience, so you don't have to be a big nerd yourself to understand what we're talking about. In fact, you'll probably enjoy my blaming bird flu for the soaring prices of chicken wings at my usual football bar. You can either subscribe through iTunes using this feed, or just go to the TWiV website.
I'll be back with some non-virological Razzification next week, I promise.
Labels: epidemic geekery, excuses, grad school bullshit, science, viruses rule
Friday, October 24, 2008
Reaping the rewards of ragging on fat former classmates with shiteous blogs overexposed on the Facebooks
Over the last day or so, I've had a couple concerned Razzyphiles freak out because my site has inexplicably disappeared from the internets. I have no idea why this is going on, except it might be my karmic reward for telling this fat chick I went to high school with that her lame blog was boring and a waste of bandwidth after I got tired of being exhorted via Facebook to read the latest in her completely uneventful life (she's doing homework, her kid wants to go as some bitch from High School Musical for Halloween, etc.). My old buddy Morrissey'sHair told me that he had previously defriended her on MySpace for posting blog entries that he thought were racist and she consequently tried to start some sort of blood feud with him and his twin brother HotLawyer. When he told me this, and I consequently read a few posts in which she discussed her vaginal bleeding at length and how she was involved in some sort of MySpace messaging scandal with her deadbeat baby daddy, I decided to take some action. I called her fat (although "morbidly obese" is probably more accurate), and left a few now-deleted comments suggesting in a not particularly subtle way that she's a terrible writer and the blogosphere would be a better place if her fingers were chopped off so she could no longer type monotonous shit about her kid and how she dropped some Urban Studies night school class because learning about the constitutional issues affecting poor inner-city black people was just too fucking hard and how she's in charge of the Army wives' bake sale club or something. I forgot to mention that her husband is so ugly that he looks like a long-lost relative of Chingy! in head-to-toe camo (although to be fair, I've never met a hot chubby chaser), but I suppose if she ever draws my ire again, I can throw that in, along with my observation that he has bigger tits than I do.
As a result of all this mean-spirited bitchery, she Facebook-defriended me and wrote a post whining about how she can't write about her feelings without criticism from big cruel meanies like me (and by the way, welcome to the internets, chunks), but perhaps the fates didn't think that was punishment enough for me performing what I consider a service to the blog-reading public. Thus, I am paying for my evil ways by having sporadic connectivity to my infinitely superior, far more interesting source of useless bullshit. I'm now directing my antagonism toward my hosting provider to remind them that I don't pay a whopping $7 a month to deprive my loyal Razzyphiles of my literary hotness for even one second. So, if you can actually read this, know that I'm as on top of it like a hot guy after half a bottle of scotch.
Labels: computer incompetence, excuses, Facebook, fat fucks, Morrissey'sHair
Thursday, October 23, 2008
The only thing missing was "Razzy's a pimp" on the Goodyear Blimp
So you may have noticed that I've been remiss the last week or two in posting regularly. In fact, you were probably rending your garments and wailing and gnashing your teeth and other assorted Biblical-type expressions of lament and sorrow that you weren't getting Razzified on the regular. This is because unfortunately I have this thing I'm doing called grad school, and I'm almost done with it. Therefore, not only do I have acute senioritis (or more accurately, sixth-yearitis), I have more bullshit to do than you even want to hear about. I have experiments to run, mice to kill, viruses to grow, cloning projects to finish, two riveting first-author papers to write, and a thesis committee to appease. I was doing the latter today, which is why I spent most of the week cranking out some last minute experiments and preparing to rock their faces off with some hot Power Point action.
Well, not only can I say "mission accomplished" to that notion, but on the VERY SAME DAY I discovered that, after two long years of passaging and plaque assaying and begging my virus to replicate, I gave a mouse a goddamned cold! And not some bullshit real-time PCR assay showing RNA replication like certain competitors of mine managed to get published (in a fucking Nature journal, of all places), but actual, honest-to-God, infectious motherfucking rhinovirus that kills cells and will give you a cold, make you miss work or school, and possibly exacerbate your asthma, COPD, or cystic fibrosis. REAL rhinovirus, not some pussified replicative form of the viral genome.
I know this doesn't sound like much, but I'm seriously having a fucking awesome day. In fact, this is one of the most awesome days in recent grad school memory. In fact, I can't think of a day when I was happier in grad school. I suppose the day I graduate will be better than this, but for now, I'm right up there in O'Shea "Ice Cube" Jackson territory regarding "good day" status. This is the science nerd equivalent of looking in the mirror and ascertaining that there are no jackers in sight while getting a beep from Kim, who reputedly can fuck all night. This is like no barking from the dog and mama cooking the breakfast with no hog (if I were a fake-me-out Muslim like Ice Cube apparently was when he released The Predator, anyway). It's like picking up the cash flow, then playing bones and being the individual skillful enough to be repeatedly yelling "domino." I probably won't be getting laid tonight with anyone who can fuck all night or doing any backyard gambling, but I will at least be having beers with J-Sexy, who apart from my PI is the one person in the entire world capable of deeply appreciating exactly how fucking mindblowingly, orgasmically, phenomenally awesome THIS is:
I know, I know...try to resist masturbating furiously at the sight of such a sexy piece of data until you are in a private place more appropriate for that sort of activity. I'm off to drink some beer and eat a fucking cheeseburger. And come up with topics for lots of interesting posts that I'll have slightly more time to throw together every couple of days, of course. Thanks for your patience with me being an absentee blogger, and please feel free to have a drink or fifty in my honor!
Labels: epidemic geekery, excuses, grad school bullshit, I LOVE IT, rap, Razzification, science, viruses rule
Thursday, September 18, 2008
All beer and no restraint makes Razzy a miserably hung over girl
I didn't write anything yesterday because Tuesday night I was very, very, VERY stupid. Since the new "90210" is basically crap, I already guessed that Dylan was Kelly Taylor's baby daddy, and I have no interest in watching it unless the entire rest of the series consists of Jackie Taylor getting shitfaced on vodka rocks with Lucille Bluth, I resumed my usual Tuesday night bar trivia tradition. I intended to only have "a couple" beers and be home and in bed by eleven at the latest. Unfortunately, this didn't exactly work out. Our buddy GayMan showed up toward the end of trivia after spending the afternoon getting drunk at a paper conference. Yes, you read that right: he was getting shitfaced at a conference dedicated to recent advances in Post-Its, business cards, and legal pads. Then we won first prize as usual at bar trivia, and decided to continue celebrating. Then the bartender gave us a round of complimentary shots because we're regulars and great tippers. Then we decided to move to another bar for a change of scenery with still more beer.
Just to illustrate exactly how drunk our group was on a Tuesday night, take a look at GayMan's attempt to document...something. I'm not sure what's going on here beside our other friend The Continental rubbing his head on my tits and me being entirely too excited about one of the complimentary Post-It cubes GayMan picked up at his paper conference. First off, the quality sucks even for a picture taken with an iPhone, and that's in spite of GayMan's being a professional photographer with a photography job and a photography blog. He obviously had the drunken shakes while snapping it, which makes me look like an even more rancid booze-sodden sack of ass than I usually do when I'm wasted:
I'm just amazed that GayMan didn't get a photo of me trying my damndest to fellate that "Serious Paper" Post-It cube, which I vaguely recall doing. In fact, I have a hazy memory of making a valiant attempt to prove my Super Slut credentials by trying to dislocate my jaw like a Burmese python to fit it in (and failing...I can fit many things in my mouth, but large cubes of "Serious Paper" are apparently not among them.)
Just to illustrate exactly how drunk our group was on a Tuesday night, take a look at GayMan's attempt to document...something. I'm not sure what's going on here beside our other friend The Continental rubbing his head on my tits and me being entirely too excited about one of the complimentary Post-It cubes GayMan picked up at his paper conference. First off, the quality sucks even for a picture taken with an iPhone, and that's in spite of GayMan's being a professional photographer with a photography job and a photography blog. He obviously had the drunken shakes while snapping it, which makes me look like an even more rancid booze-sodden sack of ass than I usually do when I'm wasted:
I'm just amazed that GayMan didn't get a photo of me trying my damndest to fellate that "Serious Paper" Post-It cube, which I vaguely recall doing. In fact, I have a hazy memory of making a valiant attempt to prove my Super Slut credentials by trying to dislocate my jaw like a Burmese python to fit it in (and failing...I can fit many things in my mouth, but large cubes of "Serious Paper" are apparently not among them.)
In any event, I woke up the next morning still wearing my clothes with a mystery can of mace in my pocket (I vaguely recall this being a gift from TheContinental to thwart internet stalkers), no money in my wallet, and a brutal fucking hangover. I left work yesterday at three, ate a pizza, and passed the fuck out before "Project Runway" was even over. Hence my lack of anything remotely interesting to blog about and this relatively boring "Dear Diary"-type post. I'm just making excuses for willingly using beer to temporarily dull my mental faculties. I'm sure I'll be sharpened back up by tomorrow.
Labels: alcoholism, excuses, Razzification, you're ugly
Wednesday, August 20, 2008
Daily Next Six Months' Douchebag: Razzy
While this may cause a great deal of lamentation and sorrow among my legions of dedicated Razzphiles, I have to sadly announce that the "Daily Douchebag" and "Daily Dude I Want to Hit" features are indefinitely suspended.
I'm sure you all just attempted to punch your computer screens in shock and rage, but before you destroy your gateway to the internets, let me offer an explanation. The other day, one of my lovely anonymous Razzy Haters left the following comment:
Sure, make fun of world class athletes who are actually succeeding in life. Of course, you are successful, if you consider being an alcoholic a success. How about publishing some articles? So much for publish or perish: no wonder Columbia is the laughingstock of the Ivy League. By the way, you have already failed in your goal to model rhinovirus in mice (see: Bartlett et al. 2008 Nature Medicine)
I thank the commenter for recognizing my achievements in avoiding sobriety, and applaud them for picking on me in a way that I figured someone would have done a long time ago: hating on my publication record. It's true that I have not published my research in a peer-reviewed journal, primarily because, as the commenter also notes, my thesis project has been an abject disaster. I spent my first three years in graduate school working on a transgenic mouse. "Transgenic" means that it was genetically fucked with to express the human receptor for rhinovirus. In theory, this would mean that it would express said receptor in its respiratory tract, and thus be susceptible to infection with some mouse-adapted rhinoviruses we had sitting around the lab. I showed by every means possible that this mouse had integrated the transgene into its germline DNA (PCR and Southern blot), it was expressing the transgene (Northern blot and real-time quantitative PCR), and the receptor was present in the mouse trachea (immunohistochemistry). However, the mice still were not supporting virus replication, so I eventually did some flow cytometry and saw to my horror that the receptor was not present on the cell surface. Since the receptor normally is responsible for snagging the virus at the cell surface and bringing it into the cell, this was a major blow to my thesis work. After three years of doing every experiment imaginable to understand what was going on, I realized that while this mouse might be transgenic, it was never going to be susceptible to infection. With a heavy heart, I sacrificed the mice and began to plot a plan B.
Because making transgenic mice is time-consuming and expensive, I decided to instead isolate rhinoviruses that could use a mouse cell surface protein as a receptor. This means I can use any mouse to develop my model, but first I need some rhinoviruses that can grow in mice. The reason why people aren't busy doing all kinds of in vivo work with the common cold is that rhinovirus does not grow well in mouse cells at all. There is a block at the level of viral RNA replication that results in negligible production of infectious virus from mouse cells either infected with virus or transfected with viral RNA (in human cells, you can just pop the viral genetic material itself into a cell, this will be translated into viral proteins and replicated by the viral polymerase, and voila–the cell makes new virus). So I spent the next two and a half years passaging rhinoviruses capable of using the mouse LDL receptor for entry back and forth between mouse and human cells, to select variants which grow better in mouse cells. I did this through two different mouse cell lines, and finally showed that I did indeed select viruses with robust growth in mouse cells. The next step would be to try it in actual living mice.
Unfortunately, right at that time, an epidemic of mouse hepatitis virus tore through our mouse facility. The veterinarians made me stop breeding my colony for five months, which translates to NO MORE MOUSE WORK. So I spent that time trying in earnest to clone my adapted viruses, which has been a whole other technical bitch and a half that I won't get into. A few months ago, I was given the go-ahead to resume breeding, and I thought, "FINALLY! I can get these mouse experiments finished, write it up, maybe dabble in some asthma work, get Ph.ake doctored, and get a real job (or a post-doc)!" However, the technicians in my animal room have been rough with maintaining our colony and all the dams (mommy mice) have been on a gluttonous spree of eating their young. When mice get stressed, they tend to eat their newborn pups because they're stupid and gross. I tried to avoid this by instructing the mouse facility staff to add cotton nestlets (squares of cotton that the mice shred up and nest in), ensure they are eating breeder chow for maximum fertility, and not disturb cages with newborn pups (baby mice). The technicians have not heeded these formally requested instructions, so I had to send a bitchy e-mail to their boss. How many of you have ever had to address the topic of CANNIBALISM in a work e-mail?
I was just in our mouse room and noticed that many of our breeder cages did not have extra cotton nestlets and, in a few cases, breeder chow in them. Some of the cages without nestlets appeared to have been recently changed. As you may recall, I recently requested that all breeder cages not be changed if they contain newborn pups, that all breeder cages be given breeder chow, and that all breeder cages be given several cotton nestlets when changed. I made these requests to both maximize litter size and reduce cannibalization of newborn pups, which has been a problem for some time. While a certain amount of cannibalism is normal and unavoidable, I have noticed evidence in many of my breeder cages (ie: blood, viscera, and partially cannibalized pup corpses) of widespread dam cannibalization. In fact, despite having numerous cages devoted to breeding some strains of mice, I barely get several pups per month that survive to adulthood because most are neonatally cannibalized, likely because the dams are stressed by cage changes and a lack of nesting material. This is having a significant impact on my research, as it dramatically reduces the number of mice I'm able to work with. Today I noticed evidence of recent cannibalization in several breeding cages (neither of which had additional cotton nestlets in them when discovered).
The recent outbreak of MHV has taken its toll on my ability to perform mouse work, and now that our room is cleared, I was hoping to have access to as many mice as possible. I believe that the requests I have made will significantly reduce the cannibalism problem which has plagued our colony since I was able to resume breeding following clearance of MHV from our room. Would you please ensure that the requests for special care of our breeder cages are being rigorously implemented?
The facility manager was very apologetic and assured me she would have a staff meeting to address these issues and they would be handled. God willing, in three weeks I will have mice to complete my thesis with. This still means another nine months of work, which is where suspension of my "Daily Whatever" posts comes in.
Those of you who are suffering alongside me in the trenches of scientific research funded by the elusive NIH RO1 grant know that thanks to our current president's hatred of all things involving "stem cells," the entire NIH budget has been drastically cut and everyone is having a hard time getting grants to fund their labs. My PI (boss), who is extremely well-regarded in his field and who writes a fucking textbook on the subject to prove it, has experienced the trials of securing funding as much as more junior faculty who aren't endowed full professors at an Ivy League school. Therefore, our lab has four students on one grant, which is too many. You would think that in the interest of supporting research which will yield papers and grant money and thus enhance its reputation, Columbia would use its considerable financial resources to help out, but you would think wrong. Columbia doesn't give a fuck because they haven't gotten any bad press for it, and that's the only thing which spurs this institution to do ANYTHING. That is why, as anonymous hater pointed out, Columbia is the laughingstock of the Ivy League. Instead, my department's brilliant solution to our lab funding problem is to get rid of students. Because three of the students on my PI's grant (including myself) are sixth years, they are graduating all of us ASAP.
You might think, "But Razzy, you complain about grad school all the time! Don't you want to get Ph.ake doctored like tomorrow?" While I absolutely would love to move on to my post-doctoral life, I don't want to do it before I publish my dope-ass mouse model. Unlike anonymous, I don't believe that I have "failed" at my project because another group published a model before I did. Other models have been published similar to that one which have many drawbacks. The specific paper anonymous cites shows viral RNA replication in mice, but virtually no production of infectious virus. I consider production of infectious virus critical to a useful model, because what's the point of using an animal model if it doesn't mimic the human disease? When you get a cold, you shed tons of infectious virus out your nose. That's how the damn disease is transmitted. I probably could have demonstrated production of negative strand RNA two years ago and published it, but my standards for a model require production of infectious virus by infected mice. The fact that Bartlett et al published their subpar model in a demi-Nature journal only goes to show that there is a substantial need for this kind of experimental system, and the rhinovirologist community will take what they can get. That's why when I complete my experiments, my paper is going to rule everybody's face off. However, I won't be able to do that if I have to graduate in December, a prospect that was sprung on me last week.
I have worked it out with my department to graduate in February, which should give me enough time to complete my experiments, submit one or two papers for publication, defend a thesis I am proud of, and get a real job. This timeline is feasible, but mandates working extremely long hours. I have worked hard throughout graduate school and have experienced many setbacks due to events beyond my control. However, now that I'm on the homestretch, I don't want to give the haters any ammunition suggesting that I didn't overcome all of it with some hot publications and the respect of my scientific peers. Therefore, if I'm going to get up at 5 a.m. to write for four hours every day, it's going to have to be papers rather than blog posts. I'm still going to do my best to write at least one thing every day, but I just can't justify researching and writing (usually copiously) about a minimum of two topics. I love writing this blog and I am sad that I have to dial it back a little, but sometimes you have to prioritize your life, and what you want to do takes a backseat to what you need to do. I need to blind some bitches with science for the next six months, so please be patient with my reduced output of Razzification during that time. I promise at the end, you'll have some SWEET peer-reviewed journal articles to read! TRUST!
Labels: excuses, grad school bullshit, Razzification, Razzy Haters, science, viruses rule
Wednesday, August 13, 2008
FUCK! I'm LATE!
Sorry, dudes, but it's 10 a.m. and I just woke up. My alarm didn't go off, but even if it had, I am miserably hung over. This is very bad news for the story about the two really angry identical lesbians who confronted me after bar trivia night to give me a drive-by scolding about being "offensive" regarding statements I made as to the fuckability of Alicia Sacramone and Nastia Liukin. Apparently I'm not supposed to speculate on which Olympic athletes are gay at "a straight bar." I rebutted this argument by making out with a hot Wellesley alumna. Ultimately, I was out until 3 a.m. last night, and though I didn't intend to stay out that late, I did to drown my sorrows about China winning the gold in the team gymsnatchtits finals. So my apologies about my lack of productivity today. I'll be back in regular form tomorrow. XOBJBS!
Labels: alcoholism, excuses
Friday, August 01, 2008
TGIExcuse
I'd try to write something clever about why I'm not writing anything clever today, but I got a solid two hours of sleep after an evening out drinking, carousing, and saying the words "Mazda Miata" many, many more times than I imagined I ever would in one evening. I know I've been making a lot of excuses lately, but what can I say? It's summer hours which means a lot of late drinking on school nights and unfortunately, I'm not 19 anymore and simply can only do so much without sleep. Therefore, in lieu of inspired hilarity or whatever, it's a perfect day for a good, old fashioned Razzy titty shot.
Have a great weekend, bitches. I promise Monday I'll be back rested and ready to rock. XOBJBS.
Labels: excuses
Wednesday, July 30, 2008
Running late
So I'm running late today. Last night I went out for beers and bar trivia with Twathopper, FalloniusMonk, and JerseyGirl, and we all swore it would be an "early night." With such good intentions, it's pretty predictable that I got home at 3 a.m. and now I'm running late. I'll catch up later today!
Labels: excuses
Wednesday, July 23, 2008
Daily Dude I Want to Hit: SLEEP
I'm full of excuses this week. Before I get to my excuse du jour, however, I wanted to say thanks to all those of you who commented and e-mailed wishing me well. That sort of thing really helps, and I don't think I can adequately explain how much. It's a great relief to know that not only are you somehow managing to not eviscerate yourselves over the fact that I'm processing about my fragile state instead of being hilarious and witty and totally Razzified, you're actually pulling for me and sending encouragement my way. I'll have you know that thanks to said kindness, I'm getting about the business of taking care of myself. So thank you very much.
Now, on to today's excuse. Part of taking care of myself means not getting up at five a.m. to write for four hours before going to lab for the day and evening. This morning, I decided that I was going to allow myself the luxury of sleeping until 8:30 instead of waking at the ass crack of dawn to a not-healthy breakfast of Parliament Lights and Sugar-Free Red Bull. I feel a lot better for having done this. Sadly, that means depriving y'all of any quality material, but as it seems most of you are understanding, I have realized that this is okay and the world isn't going to end.
I guess what I'm trying to say is thanks for your patience, and once I get caught up on my sleep and my recharged my mental batteries, I'm going to be back in full effect. Y'all better ask somebody.
And in the meantime, check it out: tits!
Labels: excuses, nudity, Razzification
Tuesday, July 22, 2008
Daily Dude I Want to Hit: nobody except maybe my mom (but not seriously, because...EW, it's my MOM!)
2008 has been a rough year for me. Some of it I've discussed here at length, like my legal drama. Some of it I have just alluded to, like my financial drama (okay, that's not so much "drama" as "stress induced by abject poverty"), my lab drama (nothing works), my health drama (quitting smoking), my mental health drama (chronic depression and the shrinks who fail to treat it), and my boy drama (a so-called "friend" telling me he could never date me because I'm a slut and a freak). However, all of it has been weighing heavily on me, and last night I approached what can best be described as a near-total nervous breakdown. Specifically, I was considering dropping out of school and running back to the P-N-Dub with my tail between my legs, and I spent three hours on the phone with my mom sobbing about it.
I very rarely open up like that and let it all out, especially to my mother. She gets really worried about me, and it pains me to cause her so much distress. Last night, for example, she was fretting over whether my current ill mood was her fault because she and my dad ran so hard with the "child prodigy" thing. When I was four, my precocious nature inspired my parents to take me to a psychologist, who tested my IQ and pronounced me an official genius. My mom told me that he said, "Your daughter is going to make a big mark on the world. There aren't very many people like her." As a result, my parents started me in school early, got me into piano lessons, bought me a computer so that I could write better, signed me up for the gifted program, and reminded me all the time how special and different I am. I excelled academically, but my lack of maturity and social ineptitude made it very difficult for me to find friends early in life. I always felt different. On one hand, I felt like I was better than everyone else. On the other, I felt helpless to fit in and feel accepted, because my insufferable egotism didn't exactly win me a lot of friends. Last night, my mom said that she worried that the reason I take on so much now and don't take good care of myself is because she and my father encouraged me to be The World's Greatest from the moment I left that psychologist's office with my genius card. I told her that I can't be The World's Greatest because that lofty title is held by one Robert Sylvester Kelly. She didn't get the joke. The truth is, I'm so obsessed with being good at everything and presenting an impervious, indefatigable, totally dominant face to the world that I fail to remember one very important thing: deep inside, I'm an extremely fragile, extremely sensitive, extremely vulnerable human being with flaws and limits, and my failure to recognize and respect that leads to my complete and total mental and physical exhaustion.
Anyway, to make a long story short, my mother talked me out of dropping out of grad school unless that was really what I wanted. As much as I loathe grad school, that is not what I want to do, because I have no respect for quitters, and because I really do want to get my Ph.ake doctorate, so sorry, Columbia...you're stuck with my batshit crazy ass for another year (or less, God willing). I would probably never forgive myself for quitting, and there's already quite a lot that I don't forgive myself for. My mom told me that she can't imagine what it's like to be me, and have expectations for myself that few people burden themselves with with a simultaneous inability to relax those expectations at all.
Why am I telling you all this? Well, the conversation (and some recent kind comments encouraging me to take care of myself and move on from my past issues) brought to my attention that even Razzyphiles don't expect me to be full of useless bullshit all the time, and most of you will give me a break for not feeling like writing anything funny, or being exhausted, or generally showing some human weakness once in a while. Therefore, I wanted to explain why, in spite of waking up early as usual to surf the internets for something I could get excited about, I couldn't really think of anything I wanted to hit. Thanks to my mom's understanding and support, I feel a lot better about everything and I plan to get back in a more regular, cheerful frame of mind by stomping ass at pub trivia tonight with some of my peeps, but for now I feel too mentally beat to even get excited about the new line of 90210 nail polishes that are coming out (and duh, Kelly Taylor's color–along with mine–is TOTALLY cocksucker red). Thanks for your understanding and putting up with this super Smith girl post...I'm now about to go tap my reserves and get about the business of being back tomorrow in full motherfucking effect.
XOBJBS,
Razzy
Labels: Daily Dude I Want to Hit, excuses, for serious people, Razzification
Friday, July 11, 2008
Daily Excuse
So today I have a whole shitload of legal and science stuff to attend to and I'm sorry to say that I don't have much time for blogging. Getting sued is certainly a pain in the ass, but it's not nearly as annoying as having to put together a poster for the conference I'm going to tomorrow in upstate New York. Oh, and did I mention I'm going to a conference tomorrow in upstate New York? I'm going to be in Ithaca for a few days listening to ten scintillating hours of virology research each day, so I'm not going to have much time for blogging.
I know I suck because it seems like every week I'm all, "Taking a few days off, try not to kill yourselves." Believe me, if I had my way, I'd be spending my mornings getting my useless bullshit on and my afternoons (un)happily entrenched in lab. Unfortunately, I have to go scope out what's new in my field and get drunk with my colleagues at other institutions, and amazingly, that pays better than the useless bullshit distribution business.
Anyway, I'll be back and better than ever awesome as usual next week sometime. Thanks for your patience with my absence, technical issues, and all my other faults. I promise to make it up.
XOBJBS,
Razzy
Labels: excuses
Thursday, July 10, 2008
FTP: Fucking technical problems
Not that you'll be able to read this anytime soon, but there's apparently some drama with Blogger and FTP publishing going on. I don't really understand all the ins and outs about "external servers" and "ports" and that type of incomprehensible tech shit, but the moral of the story is that it takes FOR-FUCKING-EVER to upload anything. I checked Blogger help, and apparently they are the ones with the problem, which I gathered after emailing my broke-ass hosting company and receiving a typically condescending reply about some free FTP client they think I should use). Since my problem seems to be specifically with Blogger's FTP client (and why it's called a "client" as opposed to my preferred term "thingy" I have no idea), I guess I have to wait for their lazy asses to fix it. Since all the people at Google are so busy shooting pool and playing video games and otherwise engaging in lots of non-work recreational activities, I have no fucking clue when this problem will be solved. Blogger's help page told me to clear my browser cache, which is one of the few computer-type things I know how to do, but that did a whole lot of jack shit nothing.
So please bear with me during this time of stalled file transfers. I am still writing useless bullshit as prolifically as ever...I'm just having a hard time blessing you all with it due to circumstances outside of my control. Thanks for your patience, all you hot Razzyphile pieces of trash.
XOBJBS,
Razzy
Labels: computer incompetence, excuses, internet domination
Monday, July 07, 2008
Daily Douchebag: back to work
I spent the whole holiday weekend getting shitfaced with my bitches in our nation's capital, and frankly, I am worn out. I need another day off to recover from my days off, which involved heavy drinking, cutting the crusts off about 8,000 cucumber tea sandwiches, and riding a male stripper's face (more on that later). Sadly, I have to go present my riveting research this weekend at the American Society of Virology meeting in beautiful, "Gorges" Ithaca, New York, and I have no days off to spare while I crank out a last couple experiments to round out my poster. So I can't sit at home all day and catch up on all the blogging which has been lacking and undoubtedly causing you all great consternation. But I'll be back in old form by tomorrow and ready to rock your faces off with Razzified awesomeness. Heart you all!
XOBJBS,
Razzy
Labels: Daily Douchebag, excuses, Razzification
Wednesday, July 02, 2008
It's like a modern day Deadwood, except we're not whores
In the meantime, check it out...Twathopper wrote about her adventures as a 28-year-old newbie gayelle! It's awesome and absolutely reminds you of why she is tearing up the world of consumer electronics public relations.
P.S. (Inside joke) The matching Gucci fedora-with-logo-open-toed-two-inch-mules white whale of gay pride totally farts in the bathroom at snotty Park Slope hipster lesbian parties. FYI. Bolsterous.
Labels: excuses, Razzification
Monday, June 30, 2008
Post-party depression
I just spent the last two hours trying desperately to type something coherent about Pride, but unfortunately this just wasn't working. I barely managed to type two shoddy paragraphs but alas, I think I might still be drunk. All weekend I probably got a total of five hours sleep. I planned to leave Pride at a reasonable hour yesterday, but then I met this cute bisexual chick who invited me to an orgy, which I had to decline because Twathopper's drunk self was starting to work herself into a gloomy lesbian fugue state. I wound up taking her home to cheer her up with pizza, Miller Lite, and a few well-placed episodes of "Beverly Hills, 90210," and while maybe it would have been more impressive to end Pride by participating in an orgy with cute bisexual chicks, I wouldn't be any kind of decent lesbian mentor (or decent friend, for that matter), if I didn't take care of my girl in her time of need. Therefore, I was up late drinking after spending approximately the last 48 hours drinking, and now my elderly almost-thirty-year-old ass is paying the price. In fact, I tried to take a picture of my tits as a substitute for any real content and I couldn't even manage that.
Yeah...I'm a mess. Not even a hot mess, but just a straight-up MESS this morning. I look and feel completely and utterly busted. In fact, I'm physically busted. On Saturday, I ran out of lab through a torrential rainstorm and bit it on the stairs coming out of the building where I work. Luckily my ample (hot) ass cushioned my fall somewhat, but now the aforementioned hot ass is a battered shitshow:
Therefore, I'm going to quit before I get even further behind. Tomorrow I should have gotten my shit together enough to resume my routine of useless bullshittery, but for now I'm just going to pull the old shameless trick of posting links to useless bullshit I wrote before, but you should go ahead and read again. In the spirit of Pride, the theme will be TOTALLY LESBISH!
Building a mystery: I still haven't found this missing vibrator. As an added bonus, there's a whole tangent about how I'm not really bisexual. Obviously I got over that big case of denial.
Three's company: Threesomes are for winners. Trust this.
The proof is in the pussy-loving hat: Note that, based on her Smith College hat, I diagnosed Lindsay Lohan with a case of the carpet munching OVER A YEAR AGO. Yes, you heard it here first!
More slutty lesbian beauty queens!: I'd be way more into the pageant circuit if these bitches actually did more drunken girl-on-girl
Rosie, leave the FUCKING LESBIANS out of it!: Rosie O'Donnell sucks and is a blight on the good name of muff divers everywhere
Daily Dude I Want to Hit: Dani from "A Shot at Love with Tila Tequila": Some love for every androgyny-loving lipstick lezzie I know
Help out with my strap-on: Thanks to all your helpful advice, I finally did learn how to bang a broad doggystyle
Daily Douchebag: Gayelle: The dumbest new way of saying "lesbian" ever
I'm kind of a lesbian: Bisexuality is confusing
The Same Old Ugly-Ass Broad Kind of Ladies Night: Lesbian parties are SOOOOO lame
Daily Douchebag: Rumors that I've gone totally gayelle: Never fear, fellas...I haven't lost my appetite for kielbasa
Lesbian riot! Go Pioneers!: Oh, those predictably enraged Smith girls.
Daily Douchebag: shrinks: According to my ex-shrink, I'm a tranny!
Labels: alcoholism, excuses, lezbollah, Razzification
Thursday, June 26, 2008
Daily Dude I Want to Hit: nobody
So I'm in the midst of a rough patch, and while I'll probably be back to my old self by tomorrow, today I am just really not in the mood to hit anyone, unless you mean in the sense of punching them in the face. I am rarely as emotionally shaken up as I was yesterday, and without going into it too much, I am just not up to my usual standards. So rest assured I'll be back in better form tomorrow. In the meantime, I'll put up some lesbian poetry to mock and a better explanation of why I'm such a negative nancy today.
XOBJBS and thanks for understanding,
Razzy
Labels: excuses, for serious people, Razzification
Monday, June 23, 2008
Still waiting
According to Apple's service center, my computer is fixed and return is "pending." However, I still don't have my precious computer back in my hot little hands because those so-called Geniuses at Apple are apparently too good to give me a UPS tracking number that will allow me to stalk it en route, so I'm not sure if I'll get to writing the "Daily Dude I Want to Hit: U.S. Women's Gymnastics especially Nastia Liukin and Alicia Sacramone" post I told LL Cool Jew I'd cobble together last night during the Olympic trials.
In the meantime, you can see my new contributor TAFKAMA (that stands for "The Artist Formerly Known as Mullah AntoniHo") bitching about how stupid Apple is. The other day he Gchatted me to announce that "i want to be a contributor on your blog. i hate amy winehouse, she is a dirty cunt rag whore." I couldn't pass up the opportunity to have someone discussing that, since I feel the same way, so I hooked him up with author privileges. While he has yet to finish his post discussing Amy Winehouse's many transgressions, his ire was temporarily rerouted to Mac users in a post he finished this weekend. Go read it and leave him some comments. However, be warned: TAFKAMA is a total hater, so if he deems any of your comments to be stupid (which he probably will), rest assured that he will probably tell you so.
Hopefully I'll be installing OS X on my computer by tonight, and will return to my usual prolific level of output in the next couple days.
Labels: Apple sucks, excuses, TAFKAMA
Thursday, June 19, 2008
Blame the Geniuses
So this morning you probably went to RAZZY.org looking for your usual fix of useless bullshit, and were shocked and dismayed to find a whole lot of NOTHING NEW. Why, you ask? Because I was at the so-called Genius Bar getting my MacBook fixed. Actually, I wasn't so much getting it "fixed" as I was getting it sent off somewhere for fixing. The good news is that the problem is under warranty, so it's free. The bad news is that it's going to take 5-7 business days, so expect the communiqués from me to be sparse until next week.
Luckily, I managed to avoid murdering anyone inside the Apple store, which is quite an accomplishment considering the very building itself pissed me off:
Not only did its super trendy design give me the impression of descending into the bowels of a giant iMac, but this place is apparently a fucking TOURIST ATTRACTION judging by the number of fanny pack-sporting Midwesterners oohing and aahing and photographing the various displays of iPods and iPhones and other assorted iBullshit. The store was also blasting Radiohead at full volume and inundating me with images of various Apple crap. I seriously felt like I had walked into Recall, and was about to get false memories implanted of being a secret agent married to Sharon Stone wreaking havoc with the evil dictatorship on Mars. The only thing that kept me from going on a murderous rampage was the fact that mercifully, the Apple Store DJ didn't spin any Coldplay jams.
My "genius" was also very friendly and helpful, and he was more of a regular nerd than a hipster Mac nerd, so I didn't hate him. In fact, he made some lame joke that I didn't quite catch, and when I laughed to be polite, he responded, "I see you've read Dune!"
Uhhh...he just made a joke about Dune? I haven't read that book since high school, but I vaguely remember the cheesetastic David Lynch movie. I seem to remember something about some rival feudal lords in space trying to corner the intergalactic spice market, and the main character was some kind of Messianic figure to the desert dwellers, and they rode around everywhere on these worms that were apparently the forbears of the monsters in Tremors, but that's about it.
"Oh, yeah, Dune ruled," I said, hoping that a closed-ended agreement to his Dune-worship would prompt him to start telling me about how he was going to instantly fix my MacBook. It just kept him going about Dune, though. He asked if I'd seen the miniseries (I said, "No, the only thing I watch on SciFi is--ahem--'Battlestar Galactica,'") informed me that a new version of it was being made currently, and he was adapting yet ANOTHER screenplay in his spare time since he felt that the previous efforts weren't faithful enough to Frank Herbert's masterful vision. In spite of all the annoying stories about minutiae involved in various retellings of Dune, I was relieved to have just a normal, sweet, garden-variety nerd handling my MacBook issues than some sort of Justin Long-esque Applephile yammering about the superiority of OS X. The whole process only took about 30 minutes, my blood pressure and overall rage level was considerably less than I thought I was going to be, and I didn't even have to use my (imaginary) AK. Overall, I have to say it was a good day at the Genius Bar.
Anyway, because of the primitive MacBook-free existence I have to live for the next few days, I have to humbly request your patience with me. I'll post a little hither and thither but the copious amounts of Razzification that you have come to depend upon like one of the desert people from Dune requires spice will be lacking until my baby comes back to me with a new hard drive and keyboard. Patience, my love. The precious will soon return. In the meantime, blame the Geniuses for not being smart enough to fix my MacBook on the fucking spot.
Labels: Apple sucks, computer incompetence, excuses, nerd alert
Friday, June 13, 2008
Stand by
We are experiencing technical difficulties here at RAZZY.org because my Goddamned piece of shit motherfucking asshole of a MacBook is fucked up again. Last night it went on the fritz and I've spent a good part of the past twelve hours pulling my hair out in frustration and trying to fix it. I have failed in my attempts, so now it's time for my PI--AKA my own personal Apple Genius Bar--to tackle it. I may have to reinstall Leopard YET AGAIN and spend the entire day transferring my backed up files and reinstalling all my critical software pieces, like Office and Photoshop and the like.
So, sorry you guys, I most likely won't be blogging today. You can go ahead and commence the wailing, rending of garments, and gnashing of teeth.
Labels: Apple sucks, computer incompetence, excuses
Thursday, June 12, 2008
Daily Douchebag: nobody
I just got back from vacation, so I'm not hating too much on anything right now, except maybe my vacation being over. I'm sure that's about to change, since I'm on my way to lab. However, I'm going to keep my cheerful spirits about me as long as possible, so you'll have to wait until tomorrow for me hating on anything. Thanks for your patience while I've been away, and I promise to be back to a more normal blogging pace by tomorrow. I'll be back in usual form by Monday at the latest. Holla!
Labels: Daily Douchebag, excuses
Saturday, June 07, 2008
All quiet on the Razzy front
Just a quick mention that I'm flying off to New Orleans today for a few days of gluttony, nerdiness, and boozing with my BFF LL Cool Jew, so please forgive what will probably be a little less blogging than usual. I'm bringing my computer and plan to try to stay on my game, but LL Cool Jew has an itinerary of museum-visiting and swamp touring and nutria hunting and Britney Spears stalking planned, with lots of turtle soup and crawfish consumption in between. Therefore, don't be surprised if I'm not Douchebagging people with my usual daily regularity. If you're pissed about this, know that I'll make it up to you with lots and lots of titty pictures. LL Cool Jew tells me that breast-baring is acceptable year round in the French Quarter, and not just during Mardi Gras. Thus, I am confident I'll produce plenty of vacation photos that all you dear little pervs can beat it to.
XOBJBS,
Razzy
Labels: excuses, LL Cool Jew, Razzification
Monday, June 02, 2008
I'm behind and I'm sorry!
So I just checked my RAZZY.org e-mail (which is something I don't do as often as I should, mainly because there's so much spam that it's aggravating sorting through it to find real e-mail from Razzyphiles and Razzy Haters), and was distressed to see that I'm getting WAY behind on my e-mail returning. I try to be good about this, but sometimes I just get sidetracked. If you've written to me lately, you might be thinking to yourself, "Who does that fucking bitch think she is to not respond? I took time to give her excellent tips and supportive words on quitting smoking or dealing with post-abortion stress/depression, or inquire about various internet, sex, and/or science-related things, or tell her she rules, or tell her I hate her, or suggest a daily dude/douchebag, or send a link to a funny news story! Talk about UNGRATEFUL to her readers!"
Well, I don't think I'm too good to return your e-mails. I just have a high standard for wit in e-mail responses, and I haven't had time to devote the attention they deserve. Therefore, I want to apologize for not getting around to this, and let you know that it isn't you, it's me. I love the fact that you all read what I put a lot of time and energy into writing, and I sincerely appreciate your making the effort to respond to it. I promise that I WILL get back to you...eventually. It's a busy time for me, what with R. Kelly on trial, and a full agenda of mice to kill, and an upcoming trip to New Orleans this weekend, so please be patient.
And in the meantime, as a token of my appreciation to all Razzyphiles and readers (whether corresponding with me or not), here's me showing some love in the form of tits, because while I'm certain you ALL read my website for the stunningly brilliant articles, nothing says "I love you" like an impromptu shot of my unshowered, barely awake self showing my cans at 6 a.m.
Labels: correspondence, excuses, nudity, Razzification, Razzy Haters, Razzyphiles
Friday, May 16, 2008
Tit for tat
Yesterday someone bitched that I'm supposed to put up titty pictures when I don't post. Well, I felt like there was some sort of Dickensian ghost in my chest rattling his chains mournfully with every breath and my nose was like a snot factory, so I was in no mood to flash for the camera. I realize my tits weren't sick, but when I feel crappy, I just don't feel like my exhibitionist self. Today I'm marginally better. My chest is rattling a little less, and the decongestants have done their appointed job, so I guess I'll make up for it. However, I can't really say I'm putting up a picture of my tits (plural) since that asshole Chingy! got in the way. Thus, here is a picture of my left tit (singular).
So sorry I failed to oblige yesterday. Hopefully you'll enjoy this 50% of my rack.
And CHONGAY CHONG, tits (plural)!
Labels: CHONGAY CHONG, excuses, nudity, Razzification, sluts
Thursday, May 15, 2008
Daily Douchebag: human rhinovirus
DOB: ???
Occupation: infecting my upper respiratory tract
Hometown: ???
Current residence: my nasal mucosa
Douchebaggery: I'm fucking sick. My skank ass is dying of AIDS! Kidding. As usual, it's with my age-old nemesis: human rhinovirus. I suppose it could also be an adenovirus, but knowing how the Picornaviridae like to taunt me and make my life hell in lab, I suspect it's goddamn motherfucking rhinovirus. I know all about rhinovirus, because not only have I given countless seminar talks and virology data club talks and lab meetings and whatnot about it, I spend all day fruitlessly trying to give it to mice in the hopes that one day I might publish it and get my Ph.ake doctor degree and get the fuck out of grad school. Well, that and develop a useful small animal model which will aid scientists in developing better therapies and possibly even a vaccine or cure for this lame fucking bitch-ass cocksucking prostitute of a virus.
In spite of the fact that I grow rhinovirus in HeLa cells by the bucket and make hot Power Point slides like the one above (even though dumbass Power Point doesn't recognize that "icosahedral" is a word), rhinovirus continues to abuse and malign me. It also continues to abuse and malign all you Razzyphiles, because when I feel this shitty, all that occurs to me is "want sleep, hate school, feel crappy" rather than any kind of useless bullshit worth writing. So sadly, I'm taking a day off in the hopes that my convalescence will render me more useful tomorrow. Sorry, dudes.
Labels: Daily Douchebag, excuses, viruses rule
Tuesday, May 06, 2008
Daily Douchebag: Cinco de Mayo
DOB: May 5, 1862
Occupation: causing severe hangovers on school days
Hometown: Puebla, Mexico
Current residence: everywhere EXCEPT Mexico
Douchebaggery: I have previously gone off about St. Patrick's Day and why I think it's stupid, because it's amateur night for alcoholics. At the risk of incurring the wrath of the pseudo-Mexicans as I incurred the wrath of the pseudo-Irish for that post, I feel the same way about Cinco de Mayo. I was planning on celebrating with a pizza and an episode of "The Hills" in the comfort of my apartment, happy to be away from all the fucktards in sombreros who need to pretend to be Mexican in order to get blasted on a Monday night. However, I got an e-mail around 6-ish from CorporateCard asking if I wanted to go celebrate "Drinko de Mayo." Initially I demurred, thinking I'd stay at lab for a while longer. Then I realized that to finish up what I was doing, I'd be at lab three hours longer. At the same time, Twathopper Gchatted me to see if I wanted to have a drink and hear more of her sexless lesbian drama. I figured I shouldn't fight the inevitable. I told both ladies I was headed for the subway.
Following my buddy HotLawyer's old adage that you should go to a Mexican place on St. Patrick's Day and an Irish bar on Cinco de Mayo to avoid all the incompetent drunks that these holidays draw out, I suggested we meet at a place called McAleer's on the Upper West Side. Trying halfheartedly to get into the spirit, they both ordered awful Irish pub margaritas. I had a scotch. If I had been smart, I would have cut myself off after the singular drink I pledged to have. I am not smart, however, so we decided to order a bucket of Coronas. Then another bucket of Coronas. And then another. Then JerseyGirl showed up, and that called for another few buckets of cerveza. By the time we left, we were muy borracha. The other ladies decided to go to yet another Irish bar, P.D. O'Hurley's, a place that has been my utter ruin on several past Monday nights. I wisely elected to go home and spend time with my dogs.
Anyway, for these reasons, I'm not feeling like doing much of anything besides whining about how hung over I am from spending five hours last night quelling alcoholic Mexican piss and a few subpar nachos at an Irish bar. Chinga tu madre, Cinco de Mayo.
Labels: alcoholism, CorporateCard, Daily Douchebag, excuses, JerseyGirl, Twathopper
Wednesday, April 30, 2008
On a plane
My apologies yet again for slacking on my Razzified pimping. It's currently 5:30 a.m. and I'm in deep mourning as I mentally prepare myself to depart the beloved P-N-Dub with its rain, salmon, delicious beers, and proliferation of Starbucks. I'm really sad because this trip was so short, and because I didn't get a chance to go to Taco Time. I'm going to have to make a special trip back here this summer just to get intimate with a crisp beef burrito and a medium Mexi-Fry. It's like deep-fried cumin-spiced crack, and I'm not even kidding about that.
Anyway, I'd write on the plane, but dumb stupid dumb American Airlines doesn't have wireless internets access from 30,000 feet over the midwest, so alas. Be back tomorrow, honeys.
Anyway, I'd write on the plane, but dumb stupid dumb American Airlines doesn't have wireless internets access from 30,000 feet over the midwest, so alas. Be back tomorrow, honeys.
Labels: excuses