Showing posts with label suicides. Show all posts
Showing posts with label suicides. Show all posts

Friday, February 22, 2008

It's 5 O'Clock Somewhere- Clamato’d Edition

I was watching Leaving Las Vegas last night and I was kind of interested in some of the background. As I tend do in these situations I went onto Wikipedia and found out that it was based on a book written by John O’Brien, a book which his father considered to be his "suicide note" .
From there I learned he was the brother of Erin O’Brien who writes a blog titled , The Erin O'Brien Owner's Manual for Human Beings
Which lead me to this frightening yet interesting “confession” of Erin’s about her addiction to Clamato.

Hello, my name is Erin, and I am a Clamatoholic. Clamato. Say it out loud and it sounds like a dirty word. Everyone crinkles their nose when I own up to loving it. Because culturally speaking, Clamato is like Spam's ugly-duckling stepsister. Canadians might drink this stuff by the gallon in their Bloody Caesars, but stateside, we think Clamato is weird or yucky or downright horrific - providing we know what it is.

"You drink tomato and clam juice?" my friends say with disgust after I explain the crux of Clamato.

"Um, yeah," I mumble and look down.

Even Motts is embarrassed by their 42-year-old clam drink. The label features a glistening glass of red liquid along with some celery, tomatoes, lime and, tucked behind the glass and barely visible, an innocuous-looking clam shell, as if to say, "Hey, there's lots to love in here! Never mind that pesky clam." Motts also doesn't like to own up to Clamato. The only place you'll find the maker's name is in tiny squeaking letters on the back label along with the mandatory address of origin and "product of USA."

Unlike buying a cute rectangular can of Spam, which is occasionally stacked in a we've-got-nothing-to-hide display at the end of the aisle (and yes, I have been known to wash down Ritz crackers topped with Spam and a dash of Tabasco with a Stroh's beer; and yes, I did even once make Spam sushi, which I proudly dubbed Cleveland Rolls), buying Clamato is a closeted experience.

Grocery managers know we Clamatoholics very well. Hence, there is never, ever a Clamato display of any sort. We don't like people watching us chew our nails as we fret over the "nutrition facts." And we'll pay any price, so you'll never see BOGO under the Clamato bottles, which are amid the land of Knudsen's Very Veggie and those dubious cans of Frank's Quality Kraut Juice.

Clamato is actually some combination of tomato concentrate, high fructose corn syrup, MSG, salt, onion/garlic powder, ascorbic acid "to maintain color" (I love that Mott's explains this ingredient to me, almost an apology: Hey, we only put the ascorbic acid in there to keep this shit good and red!), dried clam broth, vinegar and red 40 (Er ... about that last one, folks ... the tomatoes and ascorbic acid weren't quite doing the job so we went ahead and just added some of our regular red as well).

Eight ounces of Clamato contains 880 milligrams of sodium.

I tell myself every time that no one should drink anything that has 37 percent of the day's salt in one cup. What if I want a Cleveland roll later on? But one glass here and there, moderation and all that jazz, right? Thirty minutes on the elliptical will sweat that out, no problem.

With that intention, I pluck the stratified blood-red bottle from the shelf and drop it into my cart while evoking an image of tomorrow's breakfast: a whole wheat bagel, fat-free cream cheese and a sensible six-ounce glass of Clamato garnished with a lemon wedge. Call that a perfect send-off to the gym. What a good girl! Maybe I'll buy a fresh tube of pink lip gloss as well.

Full of self-satisfaction, I turn toward the rest of my errands, the remainder of the day and the fall of night.

The black space between 11 p.m. and 2 a.m. is populated with even sleep and soft dreams. But then come the nameless hours between 2 and 5, which bring the demons and desires, the sleepless fits. I toss and turn, thinking my useless thoughts: Where is the dry cleaning slip? You would look stupid in Robin Meade's make up. Do not eff up. So it goes until the image of the gleaming bottle of Clamato comes crashing in on all of it. I try to push it away to no avail. In no time, I am tiptoeing down the stairs, snickering to myself like a misplaced Grinch on his way to suck down the last can of Who Hash.

Nude save a pair of cotton undies, the miracle of the refrigerator light spills upon me. I wrap my hands around the bottle and shake, shake, shake, all my Erin flesh jiggling along in celebration.

I relish the twist of the cap. The sound of the breaking seal is barely audible, but satisfying nonetheless. I don't bother with a glass, just stand ablaze in the glorious illumination of the open refrigerator, guzzling the clammy, sweet, salty, tomato-y nectar. I cannot stop myself.

I. Fucking. Love. Clamato.

The next morning, I wake with the uncomfortable results of consuming 3,520 milligams of sodium and 240 calories of what is essentially colored, flavored and diluted high fructose corn syrup. I slither to the breakfast table. My husband clears his throat with no further comment on my bloated appearance or the empty Clamato bottle on the counter.

"Never again," I vow in a throaty voice. "I'm never buying it again!"

Six months later, beads of sweat form on my upper lip as I peer up at the top shelf of the grocery juice aisle and reach up with a shaking hand.


I had no idea what Clamato was but learning it was made of clam and tomato juice, well...yeah.
But anyway I took that article as an opportunity and decided to try to help salvage Clamato by mixing it with that ultimate redeemer of man- booze and so

Here are some recipes taken from the Clamato website

Clamato Tequila
Ingredients:
* Clamato
* Tequila
* Tabasco sauce

Preparation:
In a glass serve some tequila Worcestershire, Tabascoª sauce and one lemon juice. Fill with CLAMATO add some salt if you like it . Decorate it with celery and put some salt.

Clamato Vodka
Ingredients:
* Clamato
* Vodka
* Tabasco sauce
* Worcestershire

Preparation:
In a glass serve some vodka, English sauce, Tabascoª sauce and one lemon juice. Fill with CLAMATO add some salt if you like it.
Pablo´s Boilermaker
Ingredients:
* 1/2 oz. bourbon
* 4 oz. Ginger Ale Canada Dry
* 6 oz. Clamato

Preparation:
Combine bourbon and ginger ale in a shaker over ice.
Serve in a rocks glass over ice with a 6 oz glass of
Clamato garnished with black pepper.

Roasted Mary
Ingredients:
* 1 oz. vodka
* 2 Tbsp. diced roasted red pepper
* 4 oz. Clamato
* lime juice as needed
* cilantro for garnish

Preparation:
In a blender, combine vodka, peppers, Clamato, lime juice and ice and blend until smooth. Garnish with a sprig of cilantro.

Margarita Rioja
Ingredients:
* 1 1/2 oz tequila
* 4 oz. Clamato dash worcestershire sauce
* dash hot sauce
* dash cumin
* cilantro for garnish

Preparation:
In a shaker, combine everything but the cilantro and shake well. Serve in a rocks glass and garnish with cilantro.

Tijuana Taxi
Ingredients:
* 1 oz. vodka
* 4 oz. Clamato
* 1 oz. beer
* squeeze of lime juice
* dash of hot sauce

Preparation:
Combine all ingredients in a shaker and serve in a rocks glass with a wedge of lime.


Chipotle Cocktail
Ingredients:
* 1 oz. vodka
* 4 oz. Clamato
* Chipotle (las needed)
* Lemon juice

Preparation:
Combine all ingredients in a shaker and serve in a highball glass with lime garnish

Clamato Spritzer
Ingredients:
* 5 oz. Clamato
* 1 oz. Squirt
* Lime juice ¨Rose¨

Preparation:
Combine all ingredients in a shaker and serve in a highball with lime garnish.
a couple of other recipes out there:

Clamato Cocktail
11⁄2 fl oz (37 ml) vodka
3 fl oz (75 ml) tomato juice
1 fl oz (25 ml) clamato juice
ice cubes as required

1. Pour the vodka, tomato juice and clamato juice into a shaker with ice cubes. Shake well.
2. Strain the mixture over ice cubes into old-fashioned glass(es) and serve.

Beer and Clamato
12.0 oz Beer
0.75 oz Clamato juice
Directions: Preferably use a regular beer (blonde) or a light beer. Pour clamato into the glass (3-4 oz for a 12 oz beer) and top with beer. Very pleasant in hot weather or when you want to cut down on alcohol.


And of course the Bloody Caesar, which I spotlighted earlier
11⁄2 oz Vodka
3 Dashes Worcestershire Sauce
3 Dashes Tabasco
Salt & Pepper
Fill Clamato Juice

Line the rim of a glass with salt and pepper. Over ice, add vodka, fill with clamato juice, then add the remaining ingredients. Garnish with a celery stick.


None of those sound actually enticing to me but we all have different tastes…
Bottoms, up

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Tuesday, February 12, 2008

Meet Jane

In 83 days she will kill herself. Or so she claims on her maddeningly fascinating blog 90 Day Jane
Here’s her first post from February 5th

Today is day 90. How did it become day # 90? Well, I'm not really sure except that it's better than day 91.
With roughly 3 months to look at my life from a truly temporary perspective, I wonder what realizations i'll have. Will I suddenly become a sentimental person? Will I tie up loose ends? Will I rekindle relationships long forgotten? I doubt it, to be honest. It's not like I have terminal cancer or something. It's a truly selfish thing I do now (was that Dickens? ha ha) and I plan to live my life as I always had, but with this new perspective. I'll go to work, I'll have a social life, I'll date, I'll celebrate and then I'll check out.
I guess, though, on the day I decide this I should probably say why. Though, I simply can't define it. That's what this blog is for; to define through public record "why"?


This could be scary intense as we reach the end of April or start of May but it is a sign of our age, of the rampant cynicism deisbleif but also thirsst for fame that no one knows if this is a document of a young woman’s last days or merely an art piece.
Radar thinks it is the latter
Allow us to be early in suggesting that 90 Day Jane may be a viral marketing scheme for some amateur auteur's inspiration, that there may be a little evidence to indicate that she's simply a depressed and lonely twenty-something wage slave who finally figured out a way to really get someone to hear her. It's probably secretly sponsored by Zoloft.

On Jane's first blog post, the ubiquitous anonymous commenter left a short note stating that Jane wasn't from Hollywood, she was from Louisiana.

The comment pointed anyone who cared to Void, a weblog kept since 2004 by someone calling herself "Jane Q. Doe."

Like 90 Day Jane, Ms. "Doe" is 24. Just like 90 Day Jane, she says her occupation is "drone." Both Janes are dark-haired and well-built. Both Janes seem to have a thing for Fight Club. In her "About Me," 90 Day Jane references the movie in order to explain some of her motivations for suicide: "I mean, as an atheist I feel life has no greater purpose. My generation has had no great depression, no great war ..." Just a few days earlier, Jane Q. Doe wrote about seeing the movie for the first time, saying, "I saw fight club night before last. I was thoroughly amazed. I've avoided that movie since it came out as a 'guy movie' riddled with action, boobies, and guys beating the shit out of other people. Instead I was pleasantly surprised by intellect, insanity, and a HUGE THROBBING COCK."

A trip through Louisiana Jane's Void reveals a young woman who often sounds a great deal like 90 Day Jane, in general. It's easy to believe they are one and the same, but there's no concrete proof. Whether Jane meant for her countdown to suicide to be a really big show or not is moot. People are reading and watching.



Though this could be really fascinating (if I remember to check in, as I probably won’t) but I hope in 84 days she reveals that it was all just an exploration and meditation on life and death and what it all means and that she hasn’t actually taken the next step and figured it all out.

[UPDATE: Well I'm glad this has all been resolved and it was a hoax. Score one for cynics]

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Thursday, January 31, 2008

Sexman Takes My Breath Away

Like literally he makes me laugh so hard I can’t breath
he has a new video today and I'm obsessed and can't go a day without

The first instance of genius: misspelling commit as, in the title screen “comit” and on the actual page comite

2nd: his description of the film “a video about bad things”
3rd- that he has a stuffed pet lion and he calls it his best friend (which I think isn’t that far from the truth)
4th: the movement and running down the ratchets up the tension
5th the lighting, or lack thereof gives a sinister and morbid vibe to the proceedings
6th: calling out “all those Emos” which is always appreciated (p.s. I remember when, “back in my day” those depressed kids were just called like teenagers or maybe goth- I blame dashboard
7th the fact that this kid- with his avoidance and condemnation of internet porn and that "God Bless" at the end is either incredibly ironic and subtly brilliant, or he’s actually religious and going to grow up and be a Republican and probably go to war
and finally, this isn't necessarily an instance of genius but of admiration, that this kid is inside making these videos instead of like, doing the whole outside thing.

Oh Sexman;live forever

That kid is totally my favorite internet celebrity this week

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TV Intros from an Alternate Universe

a/k/a/ the internets
This was on Best Week Ever and though their description of it was something like “the girl duck from DuckTales gets abducted by a creepy online predator then rescued and returned to her Uncle Scrooge” this was not what I was expecting at all. Sooo creepy

Let that be a listen to you kiddies- never arrange to meet someone in person that you met on the Internet and claims to be from Ducksburg

And of course in my own twisted curiosity of what exactly the internets would do I checked and there were more. Oh yes- the twisted and bizarre minds who brought you the above had made a slew (is there a specific quantity that makes up a slew?) of these alternate TV intros.
They’re all from (I’m assuming the guys of) Fatal Farm
I’ll only show the intros to the shows that I actually watched but you can see them all here

The Golden Girls? (who doesn’t love cookies and the Golden Girls? Nevermind I don’t want to know such people exist)


I really really don’t get this one but,decided for yourself …it’s Happy Days intercut with scenes of suicide and it is gross



Doogie! (this one is far more subtle)


Cheers! And wow, just wow- that was unexpectedly funny (I do love that song; it makes everything seem more homey and cheerful)


their minds work so differently from mine,…and I couldn't be happier.
(though I could see their "That 70's Show" intro ending in like a horrific car crash)

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Tuesday, October 16, 2007

The Joys of Lesbian Lit

Two Poems of Charlotte (Mary) Mew (November 15, 1869 – March 24, 1928)

On The Road to The Sea

We passed each other, turned and stopped for half an hour, then went our way,
I who make other women smile did not make you--
But no man can move mountains in a day.
So this hard thing is yet to do.

But first I want your life:--before I die I want to see
The world that lies behind the strangeness of your eyes,
There is nothing gay or green there for my gathering, it may be,
Yet on brown fields there lies
A haunting purple bloom: is there not something in grey skies
And in grey sea?
I want what world there is behind your eyes,
I want your life and you will not give it me.

Now, if I look, I see you walking down the years,
Young, and through August fields--a face, a thought, a swinging dream
perched on a stile--;
I would have liked (so vile we are!) to have taught you tears
But most to have made you smile.
To-day is not enough or yesterday: God sees it all--
Your length on sunny lawns, the wakeful rainy nights--; tell me--;
(how vain to ask), but it is not a question--just a call--;
Show me then, only your notched inches climbing up the garden wall,
I like you best when you are small.

Is this a stupid thing to say
Not having spent with you one day?
No matter; I shall never touch your hair
Or hear the little tick behind your breast,
Still it is there,
And as a flying bird
Brushes the branches where it may not rest
I have brushed your hand and heard
The child in you: I like that best
So small, so dark, so sweet; and were you also then too grave and wise?
Always I think. Then put your far off little hand in mine;--
Oh! let it rest;
I will not stare into the early world beyond the opening eyes,
Or vex or scare what I love best.
But I want your life before mine bleeds away--
Here--not in heavenly hereafters--soon,--
I want your smile this very afternoon,
(The last of all my vices, pleasant people used to say,
I wanted and I sometimes got--the Moon!)

You know, at dusk, the last bird's cry,
And round the house the flap of the bat's low flight,
Trees that go black against the sky
And then--how soon the night!

No shadow of you on any bright road again,
And at the darkening end of this--what voice? whose kiss? As if you'd say!
It is not I who have walked with you, it will not be I who take away
Peace, peace, my little handful of the gleaner's grain
From your reaped fields at the shut of day.

Peace! Would you not rather die
Reeling,--with all the cannons at your ear?
So, at least, would I,
And I may not be here
To-night, to-morrow morning or next year.
Still I will let you keep your life a little while,
See dear?
I have made you smile.


A Quoi Bon Dire

Seventeen years ago you said
Something that sounded like Good-bye;
And everybody thinks that you are dead,
But I.

So I, as I grow stiff and cold
To this and that say Good-bye too;
And everybody sees that I am old
But you.

And one fine morning in a sunny lane
Some boy and girl will meet and kiss and swear
That nobody can love their way again
While over there
You will have smiled, I shall have tossed your hair.


[found on Isle of Lesbos]

(i love smiles)

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