Who Gives A Shit: Chatroulette?

photo: NYT

Have you people tried this shit?

If you have no idea what I'm talking about, you clearly do not own a computer. But I'll humor you and fill you in anyway: chatroulette is this new online service created 3 mos ago by some Russian 17-year-old, that  allows you to immediately start videochatting with strangers. You basically go to the site, click "play" and BOOM: you're staring at a complete stranger somewhere in the world (and/or a complete stranger's dick). As you can imagine, there is allegedly some pretty freaky deaky shit that goes down on chatrouelette, but also its supposed to be weirdly addictive. If you don't want to chat with whomever pops up (or want to leave the chat at any point during your convo) you can click a button, spin the virtual roulette wheel, and get hooked up with someone else.

Personally, I'm afraid to try chatroulette, but as I continue to read about it EVERYWHERE, my curiosity is growing (sidenote: wouldn't it be cool if you could *just* chat with people in Brooklyn? Then I'd totally be down).

Anyway, fill me in Park Slope: have you spun the chatroulette wheel yet, or wha?

Who Gives A Shit: Casual Friday?

This post on Brooklynian looking for a good tailor in Park Slope (capped off with a worthwhile rant at the end about women wearing suits), reminded me that there are still probably a shitload of people who have to dress up for work every day. Like the full monty: suits, ties, stockings, blazers, the works.

I haven't had a job like that in AGES. And in all honesty, I don't think I could ever go back to that shit, but it got me curious about what you bitches have to do?

So spill: do you have to dress up for work? If so, do you make enough scratch to make all that worthwhile? Also, do you hate it? (the dressing up, I mean, though feel free to rant about your job too).

That's it.

Again, answer in the comments (and feel free to go stealth anon if you want some priv-ass-y).

WHO GIVES A SHIT: HOW SEXY DO YOU GET?

I know I'm like a couple of years late on this news - whatever, I've been locked in the Tea Lounge writing this book forever - but a friend just passed me an article from the Daily News that says the average New York woman sleeps with about twenty partners in her lifetime (the rest of the country a paltry nine, in case you're el curioso).  The Daily News compared our sluttoriousness to the "Sex and the City" girls, so BTW, if you ever thought they were whorebags, go give yourself a once-over in the mirror.

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Who Gives A Shit: Where the Fuck is my Mail?

If you Google the words, "Why am I not," you'll get a big, crusty slice of humanity—the unanswered questions of an entire population of unfulfilled losers:

Why am I not married?
What am I not getting pregnant?
Why am I not losing weight?
Why am I not a Christian?

Or, my personal favorite, why am I not happy?

But all of these sad questions are irrelevant to me now, because my query was, simply, "why am I not getting my mail?"

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Who Gives A Shit: Help Me, Help You

Because I have an eighteen-stop completely local commute from South Slope to my nine to five in the mornings, I wake up like, twenty minutes before I have to leave, drag my ass up to the F train in a half-conscious stupor (but immaculately put together, of course), and then spend the next forty-five minutes staring into space (which explains why I’ve been on page four of Crime and Punishment for the last two weeks).

Staring into space often turns into me inventorying everything that everyone is reading, thus assuming I know everything about their lives solely based on their book selection.  Yes, I assume everyone with a Kindle is reading erotica.  Especially you.

But over the last week, I’ve noticed a disproportionate number of self-help books, including shit like How To Find Your Inner Goddess, How To Make Money With Your Ass Still on the Couch, You Will Lose Weight Just By Reading This, etc. 

I want my trashy romance novel readers back…so I can read over their shoulders.  I’ve already found my inner goddess, dammit.

Anyone else notice this self-help phenomenon recently? [ed note: And follow-up: do you think any of that shit actually work?]