In Case I Ever Get Famous And Suddenly Die…


Okay, after seeing this BuzzFeed article on drunken authors and their favorite drinks I took it upon myself to do some research and found some inconsistencies and promptly became sad. I mean, they created some of the great works of our time and no one ever noticed what they drank? Not even the bartender? What a cruel and thoughtless world. I then realized that if I were ever to write a novel and suddenly keel over, this could happen to me. No one would be able to correctly name my poison.

Something needs to be done about this. I cannot bear to have any discrepancies. Truth be told, I’m a fickle Libra so brace yourself because we are going to cover all of the things! In true BuzzFeed fashion, I decided to make a list-format doo-dad for you, complete with nonsensical images. I’d give you a smattering of boozy famous quotes for good measure, but it appears some nice person already took care of that here. Yay! Less work for me!

Lady Sensory’s Last Booze and Testament:


Katy Perry John Mayer

My memories of vodka were not this pretty. Photo: Columbia/Sony Music

Once upon a time, the Grey Goose gimlet and I were best friends. Then one night, I rode a mechanical bull three times with a regional sales director. It got to the point where they had to tip the bull and shake us off.  I was conveniently wearing low-rise jeans at the time, so half of my rear end was hanging out. I like to think of it as visual karaoke…the worst karaoke you could ever imagine.  As a result, I just say no to vodka.


Scotchy, scotch, scotch! Photo:

Scotchy, scotch, scotch!

Yes, I had a run on scotch shortly out of graduate school. I like to think that my nights of sipping single malt eventually led me to laser hair removal but sadly, that’s probably just genetics. I don’t drink it anymore and for no reason other than simply growing out of that phase. In fact, I avoid most brown liquor with the exception of an occasional hot beverage (Jameson in Irish Coffee or bourbon in hot apple cider).


I meant to do that. Photo:

I meant to do that.

Remember how tequila made PeeWee Herman dance on a bar and knock over about 30 motorcycles? Let’s not even go there.


Don't act like naps haven't happened to you.

Don’t act like naps haven’t happened to you. Photo:

Being a wine lover, I actually like champagne. Unfortunately, it doesn’t like me and I wind up taking naps in obscure places…or falling out of a chair in painting class.

So now that we’ve covered the avoidance list, here are a few of my favorite things:


Dark 'n Stormy made with Gosling's and Barritt's...and a flamingo!

Dark ‘n Stormy made with Gosling’s and Barritt’s…and a flamingo!

In my college days, it was good old Captain Morgan Spiced Rum. I’ve since traveled to Bermuda a couple of times and my favorite is presently Gosling’s Black Seal. This is best served in a Dark & Stormy or Rum Swizzle, but it’s just fine for sipping on its own. Other rum friends include Appleton, Cruzan, and some Cuban stuff I tried in Aruba. I wish I could recall the name because it was delicious, but it would never make it past customs.


Hendrick's Gin - photo directly from their Facebook page at so it will be easy for you to find it!

Hendrick’s Gin – photo directly from their Facebook page at

Gin has proven to be a strong favorite in recent years, with Hendrick’s topping the list. It’s good in a tonic, but I prefer it in a dry martini with olives instead of cucumbers. But if you give me both, hey, I’m not going to complain.


St. Germain Cocktail

St. Germain Cocktail

There are quite a few that I enjoy but none compare to my beloved St. Germain, a liqueur made from elderflowers. It pairs very well with the aforementioned Hendrick’s gin and my favorite white wine, mentioned below.


Yes, I’ve saved the best for last. This one is tricky because I’m an equal opportunity wino and like quite a few. To sum it up as concisely as possible by grape, Sauvignon Blanc is my white of choice (anything from New Zealand to Sancerre) and Pinot Noir is my red of choice (Washington/Oregon and those from the Burgundy region). Honorable mentions should include Riesling (hey, I live near the Finger Lakes, but it absolutely must be dry). And I will drink most any dry red, including dry rosé, but I do not like Merlot or Beaujolais. Also, I’m not a fan of Pinot Grigio and unfortunately, Chardonnay gives me a headache. And we all know friends don’t let friends drink white Zinfandel.

I purposely left craft beer off of this list because I’ve only recently become enamored with it and don’t drink it that often. Like wine, it would be challenging to keep it concise.

So in eighty years, when someone tries to tell you I loved Sex on the Beach, you’ll know they aren’t talking about the drink.  By the way, I also like coffee and drink more of that than anything else. It’s not always about the booze, you know!


Oh Lawd, Yeezus. It’s a Video.

'Bound 2' video screen shot from

‘Bound 2’ video screen shot from

The Blog Every Day in November (#BEDN) topic of the day is about television. I’m not a big television-watcher and I thought I covered that a couple of days ago with my “newsflash” post. Now I have to dig deeper for what I witnessed on my telly long after Kathie Lee and Hoda passed out from their Skinny Girl cocktails.

Ladies and gentlemen, I watched the Ellen show. I love Ellen DeGeneres. A personal favorite of my mother’s, Ellen has been a part of my life since I was a kid. This post has no bearing on my opinion of Ellen, whatsoever.

So Ellen invited Kanye West on her show to present his new ‘Bound 2’ video to the world. I watched it. Then I went straight to the Twitter to find out if I was crazy or if everyone else thought it was as nutso as I did. As it turns out, my feelings were validated. By many.

Words can’t even describe the ridiculous display of weirdness in this video. We had mountains, galloping horses, deserts, flannel, tie-dye, Kim sans top, and bumpy rides on motorcycles. I sat there waiting for the punchline the entire time. I don’t even know how Ellen kept a straight face. I actually wanted to see a Dr. Phil episode after Ellen for cathartic purposes. Does anyone ever really want to see a Dr. Phil episode? WTF?!

Truth be told, I am glad Kanye seems to have found happiness with Ms. Double-K. I generally like his musical offerings and will have a “toast for the douchebags” any old day of the week, but this song isn’t even a song. In the words of Kanye himself and his buddy, Jay-Z, “That shit cray.”

In addition to my Twitter reaction analysis, I decided to test the waters at dinner last night and see what my friend (who blogs over here) thought about the whole thing.  Here are just a few of her musings:

Where is the sidecar for North West? My boyfriend enjoys that song and said he likes the whole Bajeezus album. I may have to take back my words when I said we listen to the same music. When that album dropped, I was convinced Kanye was a closet Beverly Cleary fan. And now I want to re-read Beezus and Ramona and Ramona Quimby Age 8.” 

That pretty much sums up my television experience for the week. If you haven’t seen it yet, please watch it for yourselves here and feel free to comment.

A Different Kind of Sixty Minutes

Hoda and Kathie Lee screen shot from

Hoda and Kathie Lee screen shot from

The Blog Every Day in November (#BEDN) topic of the day is “Newsflash.” Basically we’re supposed to talk about something happening in the news. I already covered the dramatic #roofbreakup yesterday and the upcoming local Breakfast with Krampus event was covered last week. I don’t feel like writing about the Affordable Care Act or local shootings and robberies because those stories are kind of depressing. Today, I decided to do something I’d never done before. After catching Kelly Ripa sipping on Sauvignon Blanc while making her Brussels sprouts this AM, I determined I would watch that Hoda Kotb and Kathie Lee Gifford hour of the Today Show in its entirety because I would like my news provided to me in the most inebriated manner possible. And yes, I realize the show, 60 Minutes, is on CBS, not NBC. Just bear with me as I power through this hour.

The show started out with a little chat about Kmart commercials with each hostess having a giant glass of red wine at her fingertips. We covered: Ship My Pants, Big Gas Savings, and the latest one inciting controversy, Show Your Joe, (referencing the Joe Boxer underwear line). Honestly, these ads were the best part of the show. Well played, Kmart!

They then moved on to laughing about Toronto mayor, Rob Ford, and discussed how people probably can relate to his “authenticity.”  In referencing his recent media interviews Hoda commented, “I don’t think he realizes he’s funny.” Have you seen this guy in action? Total loose cannon. I’d hate to be his publicist. Watch this. And this. Yep, I could use a little of Hoda and Kathie Lee’s wine after viewing those hot media messes.

After a couple more guests whose names I can’t recall, Bethenny Frankel was on deck.  Hoda and Kathie Lee kicked the wine and moved on to one of Bethenny’s Skinny Girl cocktails. They started talking about that Omarosa character from The Apprentice and some spat that went down on Bethenny’s talk show. Seriously, I can’t believe that Omarosa broad is still around and that people are wasting air time talking about her.

Admittedly, I tuned out for the rest of the show. I have to say I was little disappointed in Hoda and Kathie Lee’s lack of alcohol consumption. I know I could have plowed through at least 3 glasses of wine covering these wacky stories and frankly, I was hoping for more of a Rob Ford level of disruption, like possibly pummeling a guest. At the very least, a hysterical fit of giggles was in order. Additionally, they get paid to do this job. How does one get in on that arrangement?

Lady Sensory is signing off now. “And that’s the way it is….”

The #Roofbreakup Phenomenon


Okay, so today’s Blog Every Day in November (#BEDN) topic is supposed to be about Anti-Bullying Week, but to be honest I just want to write about #roofbreakup. If you haven’t heard about it yet, you will. Basically, a comedian named Kyle Ayers out of Brooklyn, New York, live-tweeted the argument of a neighboring couple while on top of his roof Saturday night. The golden opportunity resulted in a brilliant, comedic documentation of the couple’s demise and thousands of retweets and new followers, myself included. We all know I can’t resist this kind of stuff. However, in light of today’s topic and the fact that the story was picked up across the pond by the BBC questioning The Ethics of Tweeting a Live Breakup, one has to wonder if our use of social media occasionally goes too far.

I’m not by any means suggesting that Ayers did this intentionally to publicly humiliate this couple; and I’m definitely not suggesting he was “cyberbullying.” However desolate the roof appeared, by bringing their fight into a public place the couple carried the risk of having it broadcasted. We know nothing about them, only that the young woman’s name is Rachel, that she is allegedly pretty, and that her soon-to-be-ex is quite the chain smoker. But thanks to #roofbreakup, I’m now fascinated and want to know more about who this couple is, what they do for a living, and about this douchebag guy who seems more concerned about getting pizza than the fact that he is getting dumped for his lack of commitment.  I’m imagining Rachel working in some sort of capacity that renders her not as tech-savvy as her peers. I envision her telling one of her girlfriends what went down on Saturday, and said girlfriend probably works in public relations or marketing.  In my mind the conversation goes like this:

Rachel: “So DB (douchebag) and I like, kind of broke up on Saturday night. I started asking him about if we were moving in together and he totally avoided the questions. He totally seemed more concerned about pizza.”

Rachel’s friend: “Uh. Wait, what?”

Rachel: “Yeah he was seriously getting texts from a girl the whole time and then denied it.”

Rachel’s friend: “Seriously? Saturday night, huh? Where did this happen?”

Rachel: “We went out on the roof. My roommates were home so we couldn’t talk and you know how DB needs to chain smoke. At one point I asked him if he loved me and he told me, ‘I’m not talking about love on a roof in Brooklyn.’ Seriously? Whatever. F*ck.”

Rachel’s friend (whips out her iPhone and pulls up Twitter): “Um. Rachel, I think there’s something you need to see….”

I admit that I’m just as guilty of social media documentation for comedic/ journalistic purposes. Very guilty. I recently I posted a Facebook status about my neighbor having an argument with her significant other peppered with all sorts of profanity and references to being treated like a whore. People were very entertained and frankly, so was I.  I also have entire photo albums on Facebook dedicated to New York State Fair mullets, Wilford Brimley lookalikes (both feline and human), and general train wrecks. Does that make me a cyberbully? I wouldn’t think so. The posts and photos were never taken to intentionally make the subject matter feel bad, but rather as a public service announcement for my peers on “what not to do.” That was until I recently read this article and it got me thinking about how horrible this woman felt when her Halloween pic started circulating online. How might I feel if one of my evenings out were documented or live-tweeted?  I have developed pretty thick skin throughout the years and would likely be able to laugh off my “nap” in the Convention Center bathroom if that story surfaced because it’s become a running joke with my peers. Now, would I want my last argument documented for all the world to see? Probably not.

So where do we draw the line with what we post and share? Do we have a responsibility to protect people we hardly know, if at all? I don’t know the answer and that question probably requires more thought and discussion. As a person who loves social media and all things funny, I do applaud Kyle Ayers. This was extremely well-played and whether you agree with it or not, it effectively put him on the map.

Picking Favorites


Today I’m supposed to tell you who my “favorite folk” are for Blog Every Day in November (#BEDN).  My mother was once an elementary school teacher and they used to tell her that she couldn’t pick favorites.  Well, when I used to work my summer job with kids at the town parks and recreation department and felt conflicted over preferring certain children, she informed me that whole “no favorites” theory was a bunch of crap. Apparently there are always a few favorites and a few assholes, but you just can’t make it obvious. She also warned me the asshole parents are usually worse than the asshole children.

Look, I get leery of public displays of affection and I know if I create a list of favorite friends and colleagues, I’m afraid I’ll accidentally leave someone important out. Then they’ll assume they are an asshole and I’ll have unwillingly hurt someone’s feelings. We have a local community of extremely talented, creative, and caring people. And a few assholes walk among us, so don’t make me choose.

Okay fine. I’ll appease you with an old favorite.


You totally thought I was going to post a pic of Sweet Brown, didn’t you?

Nope, this is Lurky, a character from Rainbow Brite.  I have a soft spot for him and his big phallic nose and cute sneakers. He’s also a little bit dumb and gets pushed around by Murky Dismal. Lurky is kind of forced to be an asshole but secretly doesn’t want to be one. When that cloud isn’t over his head he really, really likes rainbows.

So yes, in conclusion, Lurky gives me hope for the salvation of assholes everywhere.

Pigs in Space


I’m supposed to show you my workspace for today’s Blog Everyday in November (#BEDN) post.  Since I have no office right now and my apartment looks like the Trash Heap on Fraggle Rock, I thought I’d amuse you with what I envision as my ideal office space. And yes, that post title also bears reference to The Muppet Show as well as my stellar housekeeping. So what do you think about this as a potential workspace?


Perhaps this?


Maybe this?

Nevis Sunset

Oh yeah, Condé Nast, you can give me a jingle any time you like.

This is probably the most accurate workspace depiction:


And this probably bears the most resemblance to previous workspaces:

Monkey Nevis


Not really.

Okay enough about that. Here’s something even funnier. Last Friday I got a box from the old establishment – that “place that must not be named.” It contained the following items: a nail file, a perfume satchel, 12 old cough drops, an empty Archipelago reed diffuser, one Crabtree & Evelyn hand lotion sample, and one Band-Aid. All were lovingly packaged in bubble wrap like they were some kind of “Precious” from Lord of the Rings.

I found a great place for these glorious treasures from the ghost of workspace past:


Please bear in mind this is no reflection on the kind soul who probably packaged and sent these items to me. I’m certain he had the best intentions.

But, what, what in the?!?!?!?!


This is all I have to say about this matter.

Lawd Jesus, It’s a Faaaahre


BonfireAdmittedly, I’m oblivious to today’s Blog Every Day in November (#BEDN) topic which is “Bonfire Night.” This is apparently tied to Guy Fawkes, an English historical figure who apparently fought for the Spanish and came up with some “gunpowder plot.”

Forgive me, but I am not a history buff. That area of expertise lies with my father, Crazy Bob. I did not inherit this trait. However, I did inherit the trait of a steel trap memory and the stubbornness of the “Fighting Irish.”  You don’t want to do battle with me because you won’t win.  I learned from the very best as a child by closely observing spats during holiday family gatherings.

So what do bonfires make me think of?  This woman:

Sweet Brown

For those of you who aren’t familiar, that’s Sweet Brown.  She’s famous for getting up to get herself a cold pop, smelling a barbecue, realizing her apartment complex was burning down, yelling “Oh lawd Jesus, there’s a faaaaahre,” and then running for her life. Then the smoke got her. She got bronchitis and said, “Ain’t nobody got time fo’ dat!” She’s my favorite YouTube media disaster gone right – she now has advertising deals and her very own line of barbecue sauce. In fact, I love her so much that my friends told me I had a “Sweet Brown tic disorder” and had to do an intervention banning me from using any of her phrases. I totally plan on getting some of her barbecue sauce the near future to spite them. I have high hopes that it will be amazing.

Enough about Sweet Brown. You know what else bonfires remind me of?  They make my hair smell like bacon. That’s ten times better than the awful scent of some John Frieda shampoo and conditioner I decided to sample. I smell like a two dollar teenage prostitute (sorry for any JF fans, but it’s giving me a headache).

Since I’ve already argued with someone today, I’m going to recognize “Bonfire Night” by cooking some fresh hickory-smoked bacon.  Then I’m going to make a sandwich, drink wine, and play around with some graphic design stuff.

Cheers to that!