Jesus Christ, Shepherd of Judea, this is the most amazing hookah pipe I’ve ever laid eyes on. Sleek. Silvery. Grown up. Portable. A conversation piece. Tiny, manageable, and comes standard with two mouthpieces. Like for a date. A sexy date. How lovely… From the site:

But that’s not all, it also comes with an elegant and beautiful carrying bag so you can take it with you to the next dinner party you are invited to and show off your cool. In any case, here’s some tech info you might find relevant and convincing, in case the gorgeous design hasn’t won you over yet:

Body and handle of narghile in solid polished pewter, brilliant nish-Burner made of hi-tech ceramic. Pipe made of aeronautical polyamide treated with Te on.

2 mouthpieces made of culinary standard nacrine (i.e. synthetic mother-of-pearl).

Tongs for tobacco and charcoal - Carrying case.

• Smoking- In addition to my beloved Djarums, I am also digging these weird Springwater cigs. Smoking is so underrated.

• Trader Joe’s- It’s like someone hosed the place down in awesome and win. Tarte d’Alsace and some two buck Chuck makes you almost feel not-poor for like, fifteen whole minutes. Truffles for under $3. Real instant mash. Natural beauty supplies. If only they added house brand valium and vicodin and staffed it with teenage brits, I’d never leave.

• Queer as Folk reruns on Logo- anyone who hates on touchy touchy boylove needs to watch Brian and Justin dancing at the prom. I can’t think of anything more romantic in the history of romance ever.

• My imaginary boyfriend- is he real? Even I’m not sure anymore but I’ve still never seen anyone cuter. If I’m remembering right.

Leading me to…

• Hitachi Magic Wand- It’s just so powerful, I might have to tell my roommates I use it for old car accident injuries. Every time Boondock Saints is on, my back just starts acting up. Especially during the outtakes.

• Jesus Christ it’s a lion, get in the car! Please, God, let the internets stop producing memes so I can get some sleep.

• Leisurewear- It’s gotten to the point where my one career goal is to be able to wear sexy sweats and sleek sneakers. Career garb is so awful in so many ways, it always feels dirty.

• Jay-Z’s American Gangster- I think this album is gonna give The Black Album a serious run for its money in the long-term. Yeah, I said it. Fucking genius, this is.

• On Demand Programming- why can’t the fuckwits who are responsible for cable make one that fucking works already? I’m paying $3 a month, and I want to watch Hookers at the Point for the sixteenth time. Damn you, iO.

• My car- Newark is so fucking weird- I can leave my easy-to-park-in space and be in the Holland Tunnel in ten minutes. You can’t even get from Tillary Street to the Manhattan Bridge in that amount of time, who knew? Anyway, driving stick in Jersey traffic is scary, but now I have a Beetle again.

• Scrabulous- Eamon playing “VAGINA” for twelve points, shocking only that it came two whole plays into the game.

• Burger King pranking customers- you mean other than serving them Burger King food?

• My toddler versus my prized possessions- this pint-sized terrorist has a knack for destroying electronics and media in seconds, while you’re just trying to form the “nuh” in “no.” Then she manages to turn on the waterworks and make you feel guilty.

• Jack White- sexy, cheeky, mysterious, and tall. Considering all that and the hair, I’d marry him like, right this second.

Okay, so I haven’t posted since last Thursday.  It’s been a busy couple of units of time.  I had to move out of my apartment, on pretty short notice at that. It takes forfuckingever to find a place in the naked city, and after a few eh experiences, I found a commune in Newark to move to.  So most of my time has been spent singing kum-ba-yah, smoking pot, and arguing over whose cruelty-free tofu burgers are in whose freezer.  I’m kidding, you can totally get in trouble for saying stuff like that on your blog nowadays.  And besides, would I eat a tofu burger?  And it’s actually sort of co-housing, not a commune.  In Newark of all places.

So living in a commune loft is actually pretty cool.  It’s mostly boys, so there are no estrogen fueled hysterics.  Plus, it’s a cool old converted factory, so I get to build all up in it. And I can rollerskate here.  Some things that make co-housing situations overall better, IMHO- or, my loot:

These are my shiny red pots.  Awesome, awesome pots.  Top marks.

A sexy robe…

This tool makes you Macgyver in like three seconds.  The rub?  You need one of these motherfuckers to open it!

Lighting!  I did this all by myself.  The cords came from IKEA, but you can get them and the shades from Pearl River.

Or, in this case, engineering. And what a beautiful thing. This handy pipe and lighter combo is sleek, discreet, and sexy. And no one can pocket your lighter without pocketing your pipe, too. Excellent idea!

Part of my inspiration for this blog is the marginalization of vices.  As someone who has many, I know that even if you like to smoke, that doesn’t mean you want to do it out of a replica of Bob Marley’s head.  Maybe you think the Grateful Dead bears are stupid and juvenile.  This pretty pyrex piece is subtle enough to live in a grown-up’s house, yet functional and sturdy enough to feature at your next dinner party.

I’m terrible at rolling… cigarettes.  The ends get all crimpy and they’re too loose and I just suck overall.  I have to get a copy of this DIY guide to rolling blunts.  It even has a place in the back for you to break up your… tobacco. 

Disposable Bics are so ugly and boring. I’m always on the lookout for something refillable and more aesthetically pleasing, but smoking supplies are persona non grata in the realm of accessories nowadays- thanks, anti-smoking fascists! I stumbled across this cute and naughty-girl lighter in one of my endless quests. Let’s face it, you’ll rarely be smoking anything in a situation where you have to look like Ms. (or Mr.) Nicey-Nice.

Nothing says cooler than you like foreign cigarettes.  I never smoked until I got divorced, and when the stress wore me down, a long-burning, sweet-smelling clove made it somewhat better.  I’ve tried regular smokes, but I remain loyal to my beloved Djarum Specials.  One caveat, people do stop you to ask what you’re smoking.  A small price to pay for peace.