EYELINER AND CIGARETTES

EAC’s having a night at the museum with One Step Beyond-...

Fri, 17 Feb 2012 17:54:12 -0500

EAC’s having a night at the museum with One Step Beyond- The Museum of Natural History’s monthly dance party!

No better way to get excited to see their GIANT blue whale than this song (plus this video supports a good cause)!

Whale. By Yellow Ostrich.

Great people, great company, great cause! Check out Support the...

Fri, 17 Feb 2012 17:47:10 -0500

Great people, great company, great cause! Check out Support the Tour NOW!!!

stilesfiles:

Want to win a free pair of tickets to any Vans Warped Tour date? Donate at least $10 worth of tour support items to either Such Gold or Ghost Thrower or both by noon on Friday, February 24th and you will be entered to win! Support the Tour will announce the winner the following day…happy donating!

www.supportthetournow.com

Please reblog!

Photo

Wed, 08 Feb 2012 09:06:51 -0500

Messeca’s Gavin on the Subway. (Taken with instagram)

Tue, 07 Feb 2012 23:59:42 -0500

Messeca’s Gavin on the Subway. (Taken with instagram)

Home.

Tue, 07 Feb 2012 22:55:54 -0500

Home.

Well said, Sign.

Tue, 07 Feb 2012 15:56:00 -0500

Well said, Sign.

The Smell of San Antonio. By Holly Henley.

Thu, 02 Feb 2012 21:50:00 -0500

I have a confession to make…

Ted Aces was not the reason that RTAP Talent Agency did not win over the business of one of the most beautiful up and coming actresses in Hollywood. I can’t let him take responsibility. Because Ted was not to blame.

I was.

Me, a mug, and a little blue kitchen sponge.

You may know the actress Daniela Chirimqui from her role as the beautiful on-again-off-again girlfriend of side kick character “J” on the popular, and now cancelled HBO show about Hollywood that I will not name. She played Summer. And if you met her, you might slip and call her Summer. Which is exactly what Ted Aces, RTAP Talent Agency president, did the first time he met her.

The story goes, as told by the two receptionists watching this go down from the front desk, that Ted walked into the RTAP lobby alone that morning to wait for Daniela. Meanwhile, the receptionists eagerly anticipated her arrival, but kept calling her by her character’s name. “Summer will be here any minute!” one receptionist said to the other, all within Ted’s ear shot. So Ted overheard this. Daniela walked in. Ted assumed her name was actually Summer, and stuck out his clumsy dope of a hand for a shake saying “Welcome to our agency, Summer!”

The receptionists said her manager corrected him, and he apologized profusely, but when she didn’t sign with our agency after the meeting, everyone thought this was why. Everyone assumed it was Ted’s fault.

But it wasn’t.

Here is what really happened:

Beth Kipling, maniacal manager and general satanic enforcer, had prepped me the day before Daniela Chirimqui’s visit. As Beth’s assistant, it was my duty to tend to the celebrities that came to meet with her and Ted. Often they were Disney Channel stars, or up-and-coming models turned actors, but for everything terrible I say about RTAP, this was definitely a perk of the job. I loved when celebrities came in for 3 reasons:

1) I got to meet them, offer them water, coffee, snacks, whatever and see if they were friendly, divas, hot, busted, tall, short, weird, nasty, etc…then I got to report back on this information to everyone I knew. It was one of the only things I could brag about while working there.

2) I knew Beth wouldn’t be nasty to me in front of guests. We had to come off as a big happy agency family, and we couldn’t do that if she was calling me “incompetent pocket lint” and I was hiding under the conference room table, crying. We had to tolerate each other…and smile! I loved pretending, mostly because I knew it pained her to upturn the corners of her mouth (…as she was probably still upset from when that house fell on her sister…BUDUM CH!).

3) Celebrity meetings took an hour or more. I’d greet our guests and be dismissed to my desk, where I was free to work without interruption for as long as the meeting lasted. No panic inducing hand signals…no flying office supplies…no inane demands to change the font color of an email subject line….and no ludicrous questions requiring me to call 1-800-FLOWERS to see if one waters a pink orchid more than a blue orchid because Matt Lauer had mentioned something about it on the TODAY Show. No interruptions. Just me, my computer, and my work.

On the day of the meeting, I dressed to impress. I was excited. Daniela was beautiful and her character embodied everything I admired in a fictitious woman. She rivaled Carrie Bradshaw for my affection. She was smart, successful, snarky, independent, and everything I wanted to be. She had jet black hair, perfect bronze skin, and a tasteful, yet sickeningly chic wardrobe. Needless to say, I was anticipating meeting the woman who played my girl crush.

After receiving a call from reception that Daniela and her manager had arrived, I got up from my desk and proudly announced to Beth that I was going to get them.

“I’ll go put them in the conference room and let them know you’ll be in shortly,” I said, as I breezed past her desk. She stopped me.

“Holly, please tell them I’ll be in ‘right away.’ Do not use the word ‘shortly.’ We must present them with a sense of urgency.”

What?

“OK,” I muttered as I tried to escape to the lobby. But she stopped me again with a shriek.

“Holly! Do you understand the need to express this urgency? It is crucial to being an adequate assistant in this department…”

She was talking to me as if it were my first week. I had been there a year and a half, and she failed to notice the irony of preaching urgency as she raised the emery board she kept in her desk to file her left pinky nail.

“Beth. I understand. If you’d let me go I could reach them quickl-“

“Well stop dawdling, Holly! Get out there! They are our guueesssttttsss.”

She put a disgusting emphasis on the last word. I wanted to smack her. Instead, I walked away. As I rounded the corner into the lobby, Daniela came into view. Ted was striding away with what I know now was embarrassment from calling her “Summer.” I approached his mess.

“Daniela! I’m Beth Kipling’s assistant, Holly. Great to meet you!”

I shook her and her manager’s hand. She was just as flawless in person, only shorter than I expected. This only heightened my admiration for her because despite her tiny frame, her presence was enormous. As a fellow small female, it was a characteristic I appreciated.

“Lovely to meet you,” she said as we shook. She had an accent that I didn’t anticipate. Something South American. Of course, no American brunette could be this beautiful. I sighed inside.

“Let me escort you to our conference room,” I said, nervous and intimidated, as I spun on my stilettos. I kept my gaze behind me to make sure they were following, and we walked down the hall not exactly together. I tried to make small talk, but neither Daniela nor her manager was receptive.

“How was the flight from LA? Smooth I hope?”

Daniela said nothing but just nodded and smiled. I started to sweat. As I considered what else to say, the uncomfortable silence escorted us through the conference room doors. I gestured towards the chairs.

“Please have a seat. Ted and Beth will be with you shortly.”

Shit! I said “shortly.” Fix it, Holly.

“Errr…I mean RIGHT AWAY!”

Daniela flinched at my overzealous correction. I was so nervous I could barely control the volume of my voice. I was shouting. Daniela exchanged a worried glance with her manager.

Great. She hated me.

I tried to rectify the situation.

“Can I bring you anything?” I offered. “ Coffee? Tea? Water?”

“I’ll have a glass of water, actually,” Daniela said softly.

“Great!!” I shouted again, overexcited that I could help her with something. I started to walk out of the room when I barely heard her voice chime in again.

“But…wait…you…(she obviously had forgotten my name)…could you…”

I turned to face her.

“…I’m not sure if you use disposable cups here, but could I please have my water in a glass? Like an actual glass glass? I’m an active Hollywood environmental ambassador.”

What the fuck is that? There’s no way that’s a thing…

“Of course!!!” I answered her, screaming again. “I completely understand!” No I didn’t. “We try to make recycling a priority in this office. I do it all the time at home as well. Although my town is not as diligent with separation and pick up as they should b-“

Her manager cleared his throat and raised his eyebrows at me. I cut myself off.

“…be. Anyway, water! In a glass! Coming up!”

I raced out of the conference room and shut the door behind me. I ran down the hall to the kitchen repeating “water in a glass, water in a glass” over and over in my head. Distracting thoughts kept poking through my mantra, trying to throw me off.

The recycling habits of my town? Why would she care? She could buy my apartment building and use it to store her shoes. Not to mention, let’s hope Beth doesn’t bring her on a tour of the office. She’ll pass my desk and find enough Styrofoam “to-go” containers in the garbage to build a coffin for a small whale.

“Water in a glass water in a glass,”I mumbled under my breath.

I made it to the kitchen. My palms were sweating as I reached for the first cabinet handle. I ripped it open, looked inside, and let out a small gasp. The cabinet was empty. Shit. I opened the next one over. Empty.

What the hell? Where are all the cups?

Next one over. Thousands of sugar packets and stirring straws. No good. Next one. 6 boxes of Fiber One. Good to know, but unhelpful at the time. Last cabinet. Stacks and stacks of Styrofoam cups. Oh, the irony!

I slammed them shut so they didn’t poke me in the eye as I ran around the kitchen like an electrocuted mouse trying to formulate a plan. Short of going to someone’s desk and grabbing their coffee mug, there was only one other thing I could think of. And I really, really didn’t want to do it. I stared at the clock. The seconds ticked. Daniela was waiting for her water and it was up to me to get it to her. I narrowed my gaze and shifted my eyes from the clock to the ancient excuse for a dishwasher nestled between the sink and the refrigerator. Brown unidentifiable ooze glopped down the beige front. The handle gleamed like it was covered in Crisco. I didn’t want to, but I knew I had to…I needed to open the dishwasher and wash a dirty cup by hand. I felt the sweat begin to bead on my brow as I grabbed the door to the monstrosity and pulled it towards me.

The stink of 3 days of decaying lunch punched me in the nose. I made a mental note to ask the receptionists to run the machine every day, especially when Beth was eating “Chef’s Diet Lean Fish Filets” for every meal, and leaving the spines behind on her plate like a cartoon cat. I averted my face and reached onto the top rack, blindly. I felt around for something “cup-esque.” My thumb plunged into something mushy. I felt like I was playing that game you play as a kid on Halloween, where you close your eyes and pass around bowls of household food and your mom tells you it’s something gross. Spaghetti is worms. Peeled grapes are eyeballs. I’d clearly stuck my hand into brains. I gagged, and palmed the nearest cup shape I could feel. I yanked it out of the tray and slammed the dishwasher door. I looked down to see what I had won. My prize was a fist full of oatmeal (the brains), and a pink mug that said “San Antonio” in white cursive.

Who would ever buy this mug?

But there was no time for questions. “Water in a glass, water in a glass,” my subconscious whispered, and I continued on my quest. I flipped on the faucet and shoved Oatmeally San Antonio under the icy stream. My eyes darted around for soap and a cleaning device. And then I saw it. Hiding in the corner of the sink, under a dirty Tupperware like a frightened rodent, was a shabby little blue triangle.

Is that a sponge?

I pried up the Tupperware with a slimy knife and found my answer. It used to be a sponge…in a past life. Now it was a mangled mini-mass that had been eaten by a tuna fish, crapped out, scorched by hot coffee, and laid to rest in a bowl of warm milk and errant Special K flakes. Then, in a Dr. Frankenstein-like unnatural act of God, someone had brought it back to life in a pretend gesture to wash a balsamic vinaigrette soaked Tupperware. The sponge was a zombie. A Zombie Sponge.

I sighed to myself. This what my life had become. Washing a tacky pink mug covered in oatmeal for a B-list celebrity with a decaying Zombie Sponge.

“Water in a glass, water in a glass.”

I looked around for dish soap. None, of course. This was to be an epic battle: the perspiring living and the squishy undead, teaming up to battle the sticky and grey, sans soap.

I reached for the rotting triangle and squeezed it under the water. What it lacked in size, it made up for in stench. It smelled like a rusty pan caked with burnt and reburnt crust from night after night of Gortan’s Fisherman Frozen Dinners, specifically those fried clams that taste like rubber bands, but if you cover in enough cocktail sauce are edible. It was the smell of an exhumed mass grave, where hundreds of lunches had been laid to rest. But there was nothing I could do. It was all I had.

Despite the stink and lack of soap, I plunged Zombie Sponge into Oatmeally San Antonio and scrubbed furiously. The oatmeal fell away like dead skin. San Antonio shined pink and proud, while Zombie Sponge ate away the dead brains. Everyone was happy.

After about a minute of sloshing water all over myself, I shut the faucet, tossed Zombie Sponge aside, and raised the mug to inspect my work. San Antonio was spotless. I hadn’t used soap, but still accomplished my mission. In a matter of seconds, I had dried my hands, thrown in some ice cubes, filled the mug with water, and started back towards the conference room.

Feeling proud of myself, I strode back to Daniela. Back to victory. Even though she didn’t know what I had gone through, I imagined her praising me. The water would quench her thirst so completely that she would jump up and hug me. We would become best friends. She would call the director of her show and demand they write in a character for me to play. I would bounce between New York and LA, filming episodes in Hollywood in the winter, and attending swanky New York rooftop parties in the summer. I would win an Emmy for my role.

As I weighed the pros and cons of asking Ryan Gosling to be my date to my first awards show, a sour smell invaded my nose. I was steps from the conference room doors. Was that me? Had the ordeal made me that sweaty? I checked my pits. Nope. I inhaled again. The smell was terrible, but where was it coming from? I smelt my ponytail. No. My scarf. No. It wasn’t me, but it was definitely near me…

And then I realized. The color drained from my face. As I raised the mug of water to my nose I could practically see the stink lines rising from it. Like a Lifetime movie montage, I watched my dreams of fame play in reverse and disappear completely. As I inhaled again, my worst nightmare was confirmed. It was San Antonio. It smelled horrible. Zombie Sponge had cleaned off the oatmeal, but left a putrid calling card in its place. It was repulsive. Dishwasher-of-the-living-dead bad. There was no way the water in the cup wasn’t contaminated. Like a palace poison tester, I brought the mug to my lips to test the drink for my Queen. I’ve never licked a sewer rat, but at that moment I knew what it would taste like if I had to. I gagged as I swallowed. Time slowed down. My brain screamed. I wanted to fall to my knees and shake my fists in the air…

Zombie Sponge! How could you betray me?!?!

But there was no time. I looked up. Ted and Beth were approaching. “Shortly” was here. “Right away” was now. Beth and I locked eyes. I was a deer in headlights. I opened my mouth to tell her what happened, but her lips contorted into a pre-yell snarl. My pulse pounded in my ears…water in a glass, water in a glass…There was no time to go back to the kitchen and wash another cup. I had nothing to wash it with anyway. It was San Antonio or nothing. I turned my head away from Beth’s gaze, reached for the conference room door handle, and sealed my fate. Mine. Daniela Chirimqui’s. Beth’s. Ted’s. RTAP’s. Time sped up, and I stumbled into the room.

“I’m sorry for the delay, Daniela.”

Before she could speak, Ted and Beth were upon us. I stood frozen in the corner like an office plant, griping San Antonio with freezing fingers and white knuckles. Could I drop the cup? Spill the contaminated water all over the rug? Daniela would be thirsty, but thirsty was better than a sewer rat in the mouth…

“Holly? The cup?”

Beth answered my question for me.

“Oh…uh…of course!!”

I was screaming again. I put the mug down in front of Daniela, as far from her as possible without raising suspicion. Beth immediately dismissed me.

“Thank you, Holly. That will be all.”

She held the conference room door open for me to leave. I backed towards it, staring at Daniela.

“No problem, Beth,” I muttered, “Great to meet you both,” I said as I backed into the hall. “Enjoy your stay in…”

Beth began to close the door in my face. There was 6 inches of space left before I was shut out. My eyes still fixed on Daniela, I saw her reach for the mug.

“…New …”

She lifted it to her mouth. 2 inches of space…

“…York.”

As I hit the K, I watched Daniela’s nose wrinkle in disgust as San Antonio reached her lips. And then the door was closed.

Gooooooooooo Tuesday!

Tue, 31 Jan 2012 09:25:10 -0500

Gooooooooooo Tuesday!

An ambitious DIY project… -Holly

Sat, 28 Jan 2012 21:54:47 -0500

An ambitious DIY project…
-Holly

Type "Is it normal to be" into Google, and look at the first search suggestion in the drop down. We promise it's funny.

Fri, 27 Jan 2012 13:22:28 -0500

Type "Is it normal to be" into Google, and look at the first search suggestion in the drop down. We promise it's funny.

So, Blowfish- Bust or Must?

Fri, 27 Jan 2012 09:17:19 -0500

Ok, so we’re admittedly a few weeks late on this review, but we had to make sure our subject was adequately drunk enough for the experiment to be successful, and Hazle is somewhat or a drinking champion at times so it took a few nights out to get it right.

Anyway, without further ado: Blowfish…does it work? Or is it a waste of money?

Here’s what Hazle had to say “the morning after:”

9:09am
Hazle: I am trying the Blowfish.

EAC: Great! How hungover are you to start?

Hazle: Headache, mopey…your run of the mill Level 5 hangover. Dizzy and nauseous with an upset stomach too.

EAC: Perfect! What’s your rating system? 5 out of 10?

Hazle: Yea, 10 is like vomiting your brains out. 9 is like you throw up 1-3 times. 8 is like vomiting once and pooping. 7 is just feeling like death and maybe pooping. 6 is just death. 5 is standard- sick but you can walk around and go to work…but you still want to hide in bed instead.

EAC: How does it taste?

Hazle: Good! It’s kind of like Poland Spring Sparkling Water, but a little less fizzy. It has a subtle berry taste.

EAC: Is it chalky? Does it leave a weird residue like AlkaSeltzer or Air Borne that you have to choke down at the end?

Hazle: It’s not chalky. It’s very refreshing actually. There’s no weird residue or foam at all.

EAC: So, it’s not making you want to vomit more?

Hazle: No, it goes down very easy. That’s what she said.

9:20am
EAC: How much water do you put it in? Is it a shot or a full glass?

Hazle: A full glass. I filled a mug.

EAC: Did you drink it quickly or over time?

Hazle: I am drinking it slowly. Over a 20 minute period.

9:30am
Hazle: My nausea has turned into the need to poop. My headache has gotten less severe, but I still have one.

9:35am
Hazle: Update: I feel basically completely normal. Ready to go for the day!

EAC: Really? Totally normal?

Hazle: Just about! I don’t want to die anymore. I’m just a little tired.

EAC: WOW! It really works! Would you take it again?

Hazle: Absolutely! I can’t wait to get wasted again and not have a hangover. Totally worth the $3.00.

EAC: And there were no negative side effects? Upset stomach? Shakes from the caffeine?

Hazle: NOPE!

EAC: Ok, so final verdict: would you recommend it to others?

Hazle: 100%!

There you have it! Blowfish is the real deal! So make sure to head to Ricky’s or Duane Reade and pick some up for all your post-partying needs!

Disagree? Tried it? Hated it? We wanna hear about it! Email us your horror story at eyelinerandcigarettesnyc@gmail.com and if it proves Hazle wrong, we’ll post it here!

(PS- This was not a paid advertisement for this product. We are not affiliated with Blowfish in any way. We just wanted to pass along a new trick we trust, from one group of night owls to another. Enjoy!)

Zooey Deschanel: "Animated Hipstamatic photograph?"

Thu, 26 Jan 2012 15:49:00 -0500

YES!…at least according to Gawker.com, who has recently launched a feature called “Zooey Wowee,” which according to them keeps “Gawker readers up to date with the comings and goings of Zooey Deschanel.”

But is the site delicately poking fun at America’s favorite “adorkable” actress, or are they just plain mean? According to Allure, the star of Fox’s New Girl was quoted as saying “I can’t go on Gawker. I actually think the writing is really funny, but there is a chance that somebody is undercutting me.” Gawker responded apologizing to Zooey saying they don’t really hate her, but we’re not convinced.

That being said, it doesn’t mean we’re not laughing. Look, we love Zooey as much as the next person (I guess…isn’t everyone tired of the “I’m-a-beautiful-girl-who-doesn’t-realize-it-and-I-like-reading-and-music-and-science-and-you’re-supposed-to-think-it’s-weird-so-I’m-gunna-act-awkward-about-the-things-that-make-me-who-I-am-even-though-it’s-really-what-makes-me-likable-in-the-first-place” act, yet? No? Ok, yeah…uhhhh…us either….), but Gawker has come up with several descriptions of Ms. Deschanel that are dead on hilarious. Here are a few our favorites:

- Crocheted Etsy woman

- Animated Hipstamatic photograph

- Possessed Anthropologie mannequin

- Living dog sweater

Thoughts? Nasty or necessary?

Street, fashion, and New York, New York! urbanthug: The Urban...

Thu, 26 Jan 2012 09:33:26 -0500

Street, fashion, and New York, New York!

urbanthug:

The Urban Network is looking for some new members.

If you are a grunge, simplicity/minimalism, art, photography, vintage, black/white, fashion, film, hipster (not party), or street blog, and you are interested in becoming a part of The Urban Network, please reblog this and add what category (or categories) that you think best describes your blog.

To be eligible to be considered, you must be following Urbanthug (the creator), and Acid-rainbow (the admin).

You can reblog this as many times as you like, it gives you a better chance of being noticed. No likes: they do not count as an entry.

GOOD LUCK!! xx

Got handed this by our waitress, Azkadelia, at Cafe Archetypus...

Wed, 25 Jan 2012 21:39:13 -0500

Got handed this by our waitress, Azkadelia, at Cafe Archetypus in Edgewater. Best cave dining experience to date. (Taken with instagram)

CBGB to reopen? Yes, please!

Wed, 25 Jan 2012 14:28:10 -0500

CBGB to reopen? Yes, please!:

It’s time a new generation gets to experience this legendary venue! But will it be the same is the question…we’re excited to find out!

Question: What happens when your nail polish chips off, you’re too broke to get your nails done,...

Wed, 25 Jan 2012 09:00:05 -0500

Question: What happens when your nail polish chips off, you’re too broke to get your nails done, and you’re too lazy to take off the old polish and start fresh?

Nail Picasso was born out of laziness and has blossomed into awesomeness. It’s a DIY that basically involves taking an old manicure and adding new layers of different colors and textures to cover up a few weeks worth of wear. Creativity is a prerequisite, so get inspired and get out your polishes!

Check out our latest creation and how to achieve the look yourself:

Winter Blues

Chipped Base: OPI Ski Teal We Drop

Fill in the holes with: OPI Glitzerland

Dot over the areas where the other two polishes meet: OPI Silver Shatter

TADA!

Declining penmanship. by Risa Di.Someday I’ll be by your sidewith my metacarpals broken.But...

Tue, 24 Jan 2012 20:01:06 -0500

Declining penmanship.
by Risa Di.

Someday I’ll be by your side
with my metacarpals broken.
But you’ll be there to move the pen
and I’ll never need to write again.

You’ll never know of this affliction It’s an...

Tue, 24 Jan 2012 16:49:22 -0500

You’ll never know of this affliction

It’s an emotional addiction

You know I’ll never make a move, but it’s okay

Plushgun - A Crush to Pass the Time

Attention Nick-o-philes: A Nickelodeon GUTS Winner is selling a piece of the Aggro Crag on eBay for $1500!

Tue, 24 Jan 2012 12:07:59 -0500

Attention Nick-o-philes: A Nickelodeon GUTS Winner is selling a piece of the Aggro Crag on eBay for $1500!:

Ok, we love GUTS as much as the next 90’s kid, but isn’t that a little pricey for a piece of glow in the dark plastic? Then again, this winner didn’t get a bunch of glitter thrown in his eyes while he was blasted with dry ice and wore a silly little blue helmet for nothing. So how much do you love GUTS? $1,500 much?

This guy must be headed to his audition to play a villain in...

Tue, 24 Jan 2012 09:32:49 -0500

This guy must be headed to his audition to play a villain in Hostel, Part 3.