Archive for July 21st, 2011

YUBZ Retro Mobile Handset

Thursday, July 21st, 2011
















Be Cool while you annoy the crap out of people.





There is no escape.  They are everywhere.

They’re waving their fingers in the air at imaginary people while fighting with their Boo.  They are yelling at their Bank representative or making dinner reservations.  They are talking dirty or reminding themselves to pick up dry-cleaning after work.  They are buying stocks or figuring out where you be at, girl?

And they are doing it all on their cell phone, and could care less who hears it.

We’ve all been there.  Trapped on a bus or subway while someone carries on a loud, broken english conversation apparently unaware that Mass Transit actually means…umm…Transit for the Masses.  Is this a private bus?  I wasn’t aware when I swiped my monthly pass.  I also didn’t realize that the 10 Items or Less line has officially become 2011′s version of a phone booth, giving both the cashier and the customer cart blanche to text and talk while my freeze pops melt in my clenching paws.

Before I get all Grandpa crotchety on cell etiquette and those new fangled Internet Cafes, I’ll focus.  This one isn’t about all that, even though I keep promising to one day write the best book ever, made up entirely of overheard cell conversations.  Instant best seller, guaranteed.  Even as an eBook that those young bucks can multi gesture through at the afore mentioned Cafes.

This is all about the Cool factor.  If you insist on driving people nuts by yakking on your Android through the entire second floor of the Mall, then at least do it in style.

The YUBZ retro handset is living proof that everything old is new again.  I don’t want to even hazard a guess as to how many cell users today have actually never gone old school with a corded receiver in their lifetime.

Simmer down, Gramps.  But this thing is pretty cool, and actually more comfortable for the long calls then smashing some warm glass plating against your skull.  YUBZ tosses a little “No Radiation” marketing into the mix as well, but the handset sells on Cool alone.  Not getting brain cancer is probably a good selling point, but if my phone matches my outfit…even better.  The handset comes in loads of colors, as well as a sleek Urban silver which gets my vote, and they all fit pretty much every cell out there, thanks to adaptors.

Even Lenny Kravitz has been photographed in the Village yakking away to his peeps on one.  Like his music or not, he’s a cool dude.

Grab one of these bad boys and start working those calls like a Style Icon.  You’ll still push me one notch below going full postal, but you’ll get props for your cellular accessorizing.



Toddlers & Tiaras Color By Numbers. Tan Babies & Purple Ponies.

Thursday, July 21st, 2011







Just a little more Rustoleum under the rims, Ma’am…






According to WebMD, I did not just have an aneurism.

I googled every possible symptom just to be certain, double checked the CVS website, called my Mom and could have sworn that I lost feeling in at least half of the northern hemisphere of my Pez shaped head.  My eyes were buggy and my jaw seemed to be locked in a slightly dropped position.  I thought Fred Sanford and I were going home to Elizabeth.

False alarm.  Turns out it was only the new episode of Toddlers & Tiaras.  

TLC, I just can’t quit you.

Exactly what kind of Tennessee casting call do they put out there on Craig’s List that gets them these people?  Is it flyers posted at the strip mall grocery store next to the lost cat picture?  The kind with all the little slits of paper at the bottom that you tear off when you’re looking for babysitters or compost poo.  ”We’re looking for sad Moms who collect porcelain chotskies  and live through their daughters, as well as some Dads who are borderline Moms.  Tear off a stub, put on your Outfit of Choice and give us a call.”  And how do they always end up South of…well, the South?  Newsflash:  We have Ramadas and gymnasiums in the Northeast as well, TLC.  Where’s the love?

So tonight we all skipped right past Headline News on the Xfinity box and got to meet Haley’s Dad, who is psychotically proud to be a Glitz Diva Dad.  Of course he is.  He had the attitude that helped him compete in some kind of Mr. SheMale Dad pageant thing last year…crown, make up and all.  He also had a pretty funky shirt.  And he had a mani and a pedi before the pageant.  The only thing he didn’t seem to have, or offer up, was the Maury Povich DNA proof that he was actually the Baby Daddy.  He was fabulous and fabulously served up some mean Diva drinks to his little girl while she laid inflatable poolside working on her pre-pageant, pre-cancerous melanoma.  He could have been an extra on Sex In The City, I swear.

Not to be outdone, Olivia stormed into our hearts.  Give this princess 10 more years, and I promise you she will be bitch slapping somebody on VH1.  Her Mom thought she was still in that “cute” stage where she could get away with hissy fits and hitting fits and general hysteria fits.  Mom might want to rethink that one.  She was a little delusional on her behavior, and definitely not thinking straight.  Maybe it was the fumes from dyeing their miniature pony in the middle of the living room.

You heard me.

They have a miniature pony, Bubbles.  And they let it in the house so they can flat iron his mane.  In.  The.  House.  Good luck getting all that nappy horse fur off the couch cushions, which were again the same fake suede that shows up in every episode of this series.  I still swear they bring the furniture from house to house in a big TLC Extreme Makeover van.  ”Move That Bus!”

Bubbles is purple, by the way.  At least today he was, because they often change his color whenever the mood hits by hosing him down with food coloring.  In.  The.  House.  Seriously.  My mother would not even let some of my grungy 4th grade friends in the house, much less the horse they rode in on.  This poor pony should take a page from the other Bubbles, Michael Jackson’s creepy monkey friend, and go into hiding somewhere far away from pageant Moms, television cameras and the cake decorating aisle at Safeway.

Before we get off track, keep in mind that this was a full on Glitz Pageant night, so spray tans are de rigueur.  And what better place to get a deep, dark, delicious Malibu Barbie tan than at the Auto Body Detailing Shop.

You heard me.

Peyton’s mom figured that the best person to coat her little girl with an even, bubble free, streak free orange tinted protective sealant was the Auto Body Guy.  I know, right?  Since he probably just got done detailing swirly Corvette flames all over Haley’s Dad, he must have already had the nozzle on the hose, so to speak.  Sure enough, they drag her into the same bay where  Jiffy Lube always tries to overcharge you for a new filter that you don’t need, and kickstart the air compressor.  To keep Child Services out of the garage, at least they had the presence of mind to lay down a little corrugated cardboard so she didn’t get her tiny toes stuck in the oil drain grates.

Go figure.  She pitched a fit.  Not an Olivia-worthy fit – she wishes – but a pretty good one for a baby, though I was surprised that since they have been coloring Peyton since she born that she didn’t take to it with a better attitude.  Instead she bolted, running through the garage while slip sliding away on oily slicks and air conditioning coolant puddles.  Finally she took a face plant on a greasy spot, making it much easier for them to grab her and bring her back, kicking and screaming, for the top coat.  TLC cut to a commercial before I could see if they actually stuck her in that hot room to bake the finish on like they did with my car after it got dinged by a shopping cart at Lowes.

All that drama could have been easily prevented if they had just taken her to Olivia’s and strapped her onto that pony.  Two for One Pageant Special.

In.  The.  House.

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