Ginny's on a role. Her second movie review in two weeks, and its a real gem.
August 19, 2013 at 06:54 PM | Permalink | Comments (0)
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My 70-year old Jersey mom went to the movies this weekend.
For those of you who follow this blog, you've heard a bit about Ginny over the years. She know more about pop-culture than most tweens. She also has an appetite for the E Channel and Access Hollywood like no other, and often leaves me the most hilarious messages about whatever movie or show she's just seen, or how she's losing sleep over Sandy Bullock's heartache. Thought I'd put her to work as my entertainment correspondent for Jersey Girl Genius. She's now going to the movies on my dime, reporting back on whether it was dynamite (1-5 on the dynamite scale) or a total bomb (1 - 5 on the bomb scale.) Officially introducing Pop-Culture in 60 Seconds, with Jersey Ginny. Today's installment, Ginny goes to the movies to see We're the Millers. Enjoy. She gave it THREE dynamites. One for Aniston's body, apparently.
August 12, 2013 at 08:14 AM | Permalink | Comments (1)
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When I was 17, I moved from Teaneck, New Jersey to 1600 Grand Avenue in St Paul to attend Macalester College. That was 17 years ago and I’m still here. Long gone are the keg stands and the booze fueled nights streaking across the big lawn. But there are still all-nighters, and plenty of caffeine. I’m a mom now. So the all-nighters I pull are lit up by a turtle nightlight that sprays colored stars on my son’s nursery walls. They have been spent staring at a baby monitor, making sure he’s still breathing, that the lovey we placed in his crib is clutched tight, wondering if he’s going to cough himself awake or decide he’s fully rested at 3 am.
I haven’t lived in New Jersey since I left, but all of my family is on the east coast. We visit several times a year, crowd into small apartments in Brooklyn and marvel at how there are just so many people everywhere we go, and how life just seems so much harder in the big, over crowded, loud, concrete city.
I stay in touch with family through Facetime and with my mother especially, through voicemails. My mother’s name is Ginny. She’s 69 years old, born and raised in Union City, NJ. She watches a lot of E Channel and Access Hollywood. She also has a lot to say about parenting.
(*beep!) in the (very Jersey) voice of my mother:
“Hi hon, it’s me. I just heard about Sandra Bullock and that guy with the tattoos. I know this is going to sound crazy, but I couldn’t sleep last night. I just felt so bad for her. She’s so sweet and he’s such a douche. How could he do something like that? I hope she has someone to talk to. Maybe that woman that she did the blind side with? It’s going to take a long time for her to get over this. I hope she’s close with her mother. Poor thing.”
(*beep!)
"hi love. I’m sorry, I got your email today but I couldn’t figure out how to reply to it and the guy who does the computer stuff was on his honeymoon. Did I tell you he got married? He’s so nice, Daniel. His wife works at Houston’s in Riverside Square. Look, I know it’s hard but you have to put callum down in his crib. I know Yvette is breast feeding and its easy to roll over and feed him, blah blah blah, but trust me, at some point, you’re gonna regret it. Let him cry, he’ll be fine. Have a glass of wine and watch dancing with the stars and he’ll be asleep before you know it. I can’t believe that Kate Gosselin is on this show, isn’t she terrible? Talk about two left feet …”
(*beep!)
“Hi hun. Are you watching the Golden Globes? You don’t have to call me back, I just wanted you to know I bought Callum some of those sleeper sack things you wanted at Red, White & Blue for $1.25 and some still have the tags on them. I have the TV on and that chick from E, the one who just adopted a baby, she just looks so, so thin. I hope she gains some weight. I saw Bradley Cooper on Good Morning America and he is so nice. I never understood why he was sexiest man alive, all that People magazine crap, he doesn’t do it for me. But he has very pretty eyes. REALLY LIGHT BLUE. Oh wait, he’s about to talk to ryan seacrest about his movie. Did you see it? The Playbook? That girl is sensational in it, the one who was in those Harry Potter Games movies. She looks sensational. I’ll talk to you later. (kissing noises) Love you. Bye.”
(*beep!)
“hi love. I just missed your call, I was in the shower. I came home from Shop Rite and the stray cat I’ve been feeding, Tom, was waiting at the door. He came up real close and gave me a good sniff, but I don’t want to try and pet him. I think it would scare him. I feel so bad for all of the stray cats. I wish I could just bring them inside, but Midnight would start hissing. I’m so sorry you’re allergic, but I know you’re an animal lover so I know you understand. I saw Ryan Gosling on one of the talk shows and he brought his dog with him. He had something on his leg or his paw like a cast, but it was so cute – and very docile. He just keep sitting there waiting for ryan to feed him bits of apple. Look, I’d be docile too if he was sitting on my couch, trying to feed me some apple. He’s cute in a pretty way I think but way too young for me. You know who is so sexy? That sanjay gupta on CNN. Sexy. Anyway, I have to unload my shopping but I’ll talk to you later. Love you. And thanks for sending me those Uggs. My feet are so warm. Bye bye!”
January 24, 2013 at 12:42 PM | Permalink | Comments (2)
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I gave in. I caved. I watched the first episode of The Bachelor Pad on ABC. All tolled - it's a complete slutty mess. Think the most drama-filled episode of Bachelor meets "Survivor" & "Big Brother." Then throw in more booze, more plastic surgery and a few guys who shave their chests and take roids. It's really genius, actually. Much more bang for the buck than a season-long investment of The Bachelor. We're now bound to see many more fame whoreish-ness on The Bachelor and Bachelorette in seasons to come too. Not only will peeps be cast through the lens of one show - but producers will now be asking themselves: should this woman end up on The Pad? Bachelor Pad will become just like The Real World and some of the contenders will be like what's his name... You know, the cute guy from the first season of Real World who wound up on every Real World sequel and special until he went MIA and postal looking a few years ago. Eric Nies!
Ginny has been watching as well. Please hit the play button below to hear what she has to say about hostess Melissa and the twisted & desperate Elizabeth. My two cents: The Weatherman must not be a real Weatherman. No one on TV gets this much time off, unless he's forecasting for Ben Franklin Middle School Pubic Access Television.
Enjoy Ginny. Let me know what you think of the show!
August 13, 2010 at 02:01 PM | Permalink | Comments (2)
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Before we go any further, let me just say this. I'm rooting for Crystal Bowersox to take home the Idol trophy. Bigtime. If anyone but Bowersox should win, then America is collectively tone deaf. Either that, or boys with pretty hair trumps girls with dreadlocks.
I love a good makeover story. Who doesn't?
Ginny Discusses The Bowersox Grin
Why not combine America's fascination with physical transformation (The Swan, Dr 90210, The Biggest Loser) and The American Dream ... and weave this into American Idol? I could go for an entire makeover episode myself - and see far less of those redonkulously forced and horrible Ford commercials. If Dr. 90210 wants to critique noses, asses, hairlines and teeth before we see Crystal talk about her Janis Joplin worship, I'm all for it. He can start with recommending Simon Cowell receive a scalp transplant. He has the weirdest hairline I've ever seen. Part Howie Long, part Chia Pet, I think he'd be better off bald.
Ginny thinks Bowersox needs to fix her teeth. STAT. But is paper really the answer? How can you sing with paper in your mouth? I'm puzzled by the suggestion but concur that anything is better than the dreaded blank hillbilly stare. There's a hole in the bucket, dear liza, dear liza. There's a hole in the bucket, dear liza a hole.
April 26, 2010 at 06:30 PM | Permalink | Comments (3)
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Ginny's predictions for this season's DWTS winner below. She was 100% accurate on her Oscar predictions, so I tend to trust her expertise on this one. What do you think? Do you agree with The Ginbomb? Does Evan (the mongoose) Lysachek lack chemistry with his "female" and use too much hair gel? Do tell. We want to hear from you!
April 09, 2010 at 12:44 PM | Permalink | Comments (0)
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I'm in NY and NJ again. Back to the homeland! When did it become July in April? No one told me about this. Fact: No one likes a girl with a sweaty upper lip. Mmmmm, sexy. I'd like spring to return please. The Polar Bears and I are a little put out.
I'm here to see a well-known CPG company to peddle my goods. Added a few days tacked on at the end to spend some quality time with my fam, little bro, my sister-in-law and their adorable kidlets. For the three of you who read this blog who don't know me in real life; I do have a day job. I sell Facebook & mobile app development, strategy & sponsorships. When not working from home, braless, sporting Nick Nolte on a bender hair, I can be found (showered & smashing) with my loyal sidekick (aka, business partner Chris) plotting to take over the world, one deal at a time.
Traveling under my own steam, without the bankroll of a big corporate travel budget, can be highly entertaining. Gone are the days of The Driskill Hotel (and their Gingersnap Pancakes, RIP) while staying in Austin for SXSWi. Until the new company is sustainable, I will crash in my 4 year-old-nephew's bunk bed in Carroll Gardens or at other gems like The Hampton Inn, Giants Stadium (which, incidentally, smells a lot like cow manure). I prefer the bunk bed in Brooklyn. A special shout out to Ikea, who has made a very sturdy piece of kid furniture, suitable for a 35-year old who is fond of penne ala vodka and the occasional rice krispy treat binge. The first time I climbed the bädd's mini ladder, I was sure the entire thing would come tumbling down. I'd land on top of the GeoTrax Village and the Pixar Cars collection. Oofta. I'm glad my brother is handy.
The Ginbomb drove me to the big meeting on Tuesday morning. Picked me up in her green Subaru so I wouldn't have to rent a car, and off we went to Wheat Thin Falls. There are several things I enjoy about bring your mom to work day.
#1 - Howard Stern is on her satellite radio all day long. While I cannot call myself a superfan, I do enjoy watching my mom get hysterical over the questions he asks his guests. During our 40 minute ride, I learned far more about Tiger Woods' mistresses than I thought possible. I also learned that my mom knows every character on his show. She's like Rain Man when it comes to Howard Stern. High Pitch Erik, Underdog Lady, Artie, Baba Booey. Dear Artie: Ginny sincerely hopes you make a full recovery. She's read your book and thinks you had a rough childhood. He really doesn't hold back, that Howard. On this particular episode, Howard kept asking Robin if she'd let Martina Navratilova perform various sexual acts on her. I realize this is why it's become increasingly more difficult to shock and surprise the ginbomb. She's heard it all. I actually think it's time for a new Howard Stern character: Jersey Ginny.
The man at the front desk at Snackville asked if my mom would be joining me in the meeting, and if so, he'd need her photo ID. I was tempted to invite her in to observe, but then again, she had her NY Post and was eagerly awaiting the opening of the corporate store, where all niblets were 50% off. This brings me to #2 on my list.
Shopping for food at a deep discount with someone who lives for a good bargain.
I felt like I was strolling Wonka's chocolate factory with Violet Beauregard. The only hiccup, trying to calculate how long we could keep veggie burgers in suspended animation before they reached the point of no return. Ginny thought it too risky and lamented the fact that we did not think to bring a cooler. That's not normally at the top of my checklist before heading to the airport, but next time I promised we'd plan ahead. Thank god for the non-perishables. A few chocolate bars, crackers, snack bars, nuts and drink mixes later, Violet was in heaven.
My mom may not fully understand what I do for a living, but she does understand shopping and watching Dancing With The Stars together. Every time Kate Gosselin dances, Baby Jesus cries. Ginny's a woman who enjoys her perks (be it Wheat Thins for a dollar, a 50 cent pair of Coach butterscotch loafers or fair judging from Bruno). While I'm making the transition from employee to business owner, I thought I'd miss some of the perks of corporate life, but I don't. My last company didn't have a take your mom to work day. I think they're missing out. We could all benefit from a little drive-thru Dunkin Donuts, The NY Post at breakfast and a detailed sexual history of Tiger Woods' mistresses from time to time. I won't lie. It's always nice to hear (insert jersey accent here) you look dynamite in that suit. Knock em' dead, kiddo.
April 08, 2010 at 09:02 AM | Permalink | Comments (4)
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Ginny's fired up about Health Care ... and thinks those Teabaggers are taking things too far! Who will put an end to all of this balls out blasphemy, I wonder? I'm simultaneously shocked, cringing and yet - proud - that I have a mother who knows the true meaning of teabagging. How many people can say that? Let's see ... there's Ginny, Margaret Cho's mother .... that about sums it up. Teabagging has nothing to do with making home made Lipton iced-tea on a sweltering Jersey summer day, or taping bags to your temples, like the fine gentleman in the photo below is demonstrating. Teabagging is something that Kathy Griffin must reference on The D List once an episode. Sheesh, even Maggie Griffin must know what teabagging is, which now raises the teabagging know-how tally to three moms out of thousands. They should start a club. This discovery is slightly less awkward than the time I realized what the "massager" under the bathroom sink was really for. So that's something.
The fact that my mom gets her sexual Wiki knowledge from Howard Stern makes things even better. She didn't run a porn video store in SF, catering to the gays, she just turned on Sirius radio and let Robin, Howard and Stuttering John into her Toyota Corolla. Then again, we did grow up with a copy of The National Enquirer on the kitchen table, which was considered news. I thought "Baby Born With Alien Head" was worthy of show & tell, until I was 7. May we all be as lucky, to have a mom like the Ginbomb. Her message rant about the Teabaggers can be heard below.
March 25, 2010 at 12:42 PM | Permalink | Comments (1)
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Ginny thinks Jesse James and all the other "skeevy" guys out there need to learn to keep it in their pants. Yet another amazing, record-breaking voicemail left by my Jersey mom. Gotta love her, the woman has a heart of gold. This one's over the three-minute mark, but worth every precious second. Enjoy.
March 19, 2010 at 01:48 PM | Permalink | Comments (2)
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