The College Board Crooks

Not to toot my own horn, but I was a top student in high school. My schedule was packed with honors and AP classes and extracurricular activities galore. I maintained a GPA of 3.9 (unweighted, that is) and still had time to tutor my peers.

However, this all came crashing down spring of 2002, my senior year. I remember my dad coming in with the mail, and amid the Penny Savers and dELiA*s catalogs and other junk there was a slender envelope from the University of California Los Angeles. A call from my Mecca. I neatly sliced open one end of the envelope with a butter knife in hopes that I would save my first acceptance letter from my dream school. Lesson learned: light envelopes from schools was a big fat sign of rejection.

The torture and pain didn't stop there. I went to my AP English class the next day to find half of the class dancing in elation, and the other half sulking in resentment like me. But my teacher really topped that sundae of depression with a stinging cherry when he announced that Roger, the student I had been tutoring in both English and Calculus, got accepted to Harvard University.

Wtf?

How the hell did this happen? What kind of crazy world do we live in? I'll tell you. It's the kind of world where your whole future depends on a stupid 4 hour test. A test not of intellect nor skills, but of memorizing and regurgitating bullshit. The SATs.

The SATs is perhaps one of the biggest scams in academic history. This standardized test that is supposed to ease the application review process has become a crutch for university admissions offices. Pretty much anyone who doesn't get a less than stellar performance on this P.O.S. test is thrown into the reject pile, without any regard to scholastic performance, talent, or any other je ne sais quoi that can't be measured by numbers. Albert Einstein failed math; who knows what other geniuses our oh-so-fine education system may turn down.

So in order to even get a second glance from the lazy admissions boards, one must get a high score. But no matter how much they drill you in English class with SAT vocab, you'll only recognize 25% of the words on the test because they pull the other 75% out of their asses. So in order to get a high score, you must learn how to take the test (oh yes, that makes perfect sense). This means SAT school, which costs $3,000...minimum.

Which leads back to my theory that the SATs is the biggest scam ever. They have a monopoly on higher education. Think about it; 99.9997% of all universities require SAT scores for admission. So let's say only half of American high school students take the test; that's about 5 million. Test fees are about $50. That's $250 million of revenue generated. And that's not including retakes, SAT II, or licensing fees for the SAT classes. Does it really cost hundreds of millions of dollars to administer a test?

So I'm calling you out, College Board, you and your unsatisfactory rating with the Better Business Bureau. And I'm especially calling you out CEO Gaston Caperton, you and your $850K annual salary. A non-profit organization making millions without actually helping young people better their future? It's a catch-22, a scheme for the rich to stay rich and the poor to lay struggling in the trenches. Ok, maybe that's a little extreme. But there are alternative solutions to a standardized exam monopoly. Colleges could create their own tests for applicants to take. And the $50 per student for test fees? How about that actually going to subsidize student fees? I'm sure those schools would rather take that $250 million for themselves than let Caperton wipe his butt with it.

Who CASTS these things?!

The trailer for Bad Lieutenant: Port of Call New Orleans:

Upon watching this trailer, my first thought is not "This movie looks absolutely terrible and my parents will probably go watch it." It is not "Wow, Xzibit's real name is Alvin. What kind of name is Xzibit?" It's not even "We've been watching Nicolas Cage go through a midlife crisis via bad movies for the past 3 years.  Enough already."

The thing that makes this movie completely unconvincing and negates any kind of empathy anyone could have towards Nicolas Cage's character is the fact that EVA MENDES was cast as NICOLAS CAGE'S WIFE.

Who would go with that?!

I miiiiight have been okay with this if this was the first time this has happened. But no. Diane Kruger was his love interest in National Treasure.  And the worst case of the bunch: Jessica Biel was his love interest in Next.  I remember reading this screenplay before the movie was released and thinking "Nicolas Cage?! Keanu Reeves would do a better job!"  That's how bad that decision was. Fun fact: A steamy sex scene was originally written for Jessica and Nick Cage's characters. It must've gotten cut on the grounds that it would have made everyone extremely uncomfortable had they seen it.  They are 18 years apart.  He's old enough to be her accidental father.  I'm sure there are like 5 more Nick Cage movies in which his love interest is a thousand leagues out of his league, but I haven't watched any of them because I'm not a masochist.

Aaaand I just found out that this isn't the first time Eva Mendes was cast as Nick Cage's love interest. She played his ex-girlfriend in Ghost Rider. This does not justify the Bad Lieutenant situation one bit. Maybe she's hoping for some industry cred for taking on the difficult role of Someone Who's Attracted to Nicolas Cage. Little does she know she'll have to play George Lopez's straight-to-TV wife as well in order to truly earn that cred.

I am now waiting for the day when Dakota Fanning will play Nicolas Cage's estranged wife. The role would be her ticket to finally getting an Oscar.

Halloween is Racist

That's right, Halloween is racist. More specifically, it was not meant for Asian people. If you're like me, you're someone who likes the idea of Halloween, but doesn't want to put that much effort into their costume. But if you're gonna dress up, you don't want to be something generic, like a cheerleader or a nerd. If you're white, you're lucky because you can just put on a suit, slick your hair back, create uncomfortable situations and be Michael Scott. A girl could throw on a short black wig with blunt bangs and a black dress and be Mia Wallace from Pulp Fiction. People will get it. If an Asian guy puts on a suit and slicks his hair back, people will think he’s an Asian gangster. They will also think he's too lazy to come up with a less lazy Halloween costume and that he's an asshole for creating uncomfortable situations. If I were to put on a short black wig with bangs, people would think I’m Ms. Swan or Asian correspondent Tricia Takanawa (by the way, when did this hairstyle become a token Asian woman thing?). If you’re Asian and you want your face to be part of your costume but you don’t want to be an elaborate anime character, and you don't want to be anything generic, you’re limited to the following costumes:

If you're a guy:
Bruce Lee
Jackie Chan
Jet Li
Yao Ming
Manny Pacquiao
A background guy from The Fast and the Furious
Ryu or E. Honda (video game characters are borderline anime characters)
Hiro from Heroes
(By the way, you would have to explain all of these costumes, or walk around with a name tag.)

If you're a girl:
Mulan (but people might thing you're a geisha)
Nail Salon Employee
Obscure mutants from X-Men, like that chick that was like Wolverine but with nails instead of claws (See costume above: coincidence?)
Trini, the yellow Power Ranger
Tila Tequila
Kristi Yamaguchi
Cho Chang
Lucy Liu (I have no idea how anyone could even dress up like her and be recognized as such. People would just think you're too lazy to come up with a real costume.)
Gi from Captain Planet (also involves a short black wig with blunt bangs)

Here's a fun fact: I Googled "Famous Asians" and clicked on the first link that came up, and it was a list of 8 people. I'm not complaining, I'm just saying...you're not making it easy for us, Halloween.

**This situation can, of course, be applied to other minorities. But I'm writing about my personal experience here. Also, I'm more inclined to offend the minority of which I'm part of because it works as an excuse for when people call me racist.

The American Apparel Employee Contract

Congratulations on becoming a new employee of an American Apparel Los Angeles store! You have been chosen amongst a large pool of more qualified applicants because this is LA, and you look the part. As you know, LA is the center of American Apparel headquarters, therefore, our LA employees are held to a higher standard than your typical AA store. As such, it is necessary that you sign the below contract:

Recession? Bring it on.

Everyone's been talking about the recession. "There's been a lot of cutbacks at work because of the recession." "Toothpaste doubled in price. Must be the recession." "My mom won't let me play outside because of the recession."

People are treating the recession like it's an epidemic. Wake up folks. This has happened multiple times in history. The problem is we have been sheltered for so long we don't know how to take the financial punches when they come. Don't get me wrong, the recession sucks balls. I can easily name 10 people I know personally that's out of work, not including me. But this recession is here to stay, at least for the next few years. Now it's time to sit back at look at the perks of this recession.

1. The Recession Diet: More effective than Weight Watchers, cheaper than Jenny Craig. I lost 10 pounds in 3 months following the recession diet. And it didn't just work for me; it has worked for all of my friends that followed it.

Here's what you do: 1) Lose your job. 2) Settle for a part time job as a waitress/barista/cashier at a cafe or restaurant. 3) Live off of free food you can sneak out of the kitchen; most places it's usually bread or celery. 4) Treat yourself every once in a while. Make a "mistake" when taking an order. Try to limit it to once every other week so it won't seem like you suck at your job.

If you can't find restaurant work, or just don't want to, there are alternative plans. Go to all your local fast food joints collect all the crackers, ketchup, hot sauce, and ranch you can find. Boom! Sandwiches for days. When guests come over, offer them as hors d'oeuvres.
*The key to this diet is realizing that you were once eating like a fat ass and that you really don't need to eat 3000 calories a day. Save your life...and your wallet.

2. Improve your love life: What's the cheapest form of entertainment? Sex. It's practically free. Unless you're in Amsterdam.

According to Trojan® Brand Condoms, condom sales are up 5% over last year. Are Americans turning into sluts? No, that happened 10 years ago with the rise of Britney Spears and skimpy Halloween costumes. The fact is people are just bored and broke, and sex is just...there.

3. Stop and smell the roses: Life is beautiful. And it's doesn't cost a dime to appreciate it. Just take a walk outside. Look at the view of the valley from a hilltop. Listen to the pigeons coo. There's more to life than fancy cars and limited edition Nikes and Louis Vuitton purses. And when did jeans become so damn expensive?

Now that you've lost your job and have all this free time, try to enjoy it a little. Spend a little QT with your friends and family. Play a rousing game of Monopoly. Go hiking at a local park. If your friends think that's lame, then they're not your real friends. It's time to replace them with robots.

The Typical Day of Michael Bay

Every day, Michael Bay wakes up to an eyeful of lens flare. There is no sun or window in his line of vision that could create a lens flare, but he had one artificially installed so he could wake up to what he thinks is a visually stimulating sight. He throws his leather bed sheets in the wash because they’re riddled with orange smudges from the full body makeup he wears to look tan. He washes his face, then covers it in baby oil so the sun will hit every bit of stubble in just the right way.

Michael Bay walks outside and makes awkward yet polite conversation with the long-haired brunette neighbor who is watering the lawn in a white dress. Also, she’s the love of his live and also, she’s conveniently located right next door to him. He offers to help her but accidentally sprays her with water in the process. He apologizes profusely but doesn’t turn off the water or take his eyes off her. Then her douchebag fiancé comes out. Him and his football jersey get wet too. Everybody’s moist. Michael Bay leaves, embarrassed, and that’s how you know you’re supposed to like him.

Michael Bay begins his morning commute. The radio announces something ominous and foreboding, but Michael Bay changes the station to a Linkin Park song. Everything is normal normal normal normalnormalthensuddenly EXPLOSION! Michael Bay swerves to avoid hitting attractive pedestrians, old people in wheelchairs, the neighbor chick (who somehow walked 3 miles from her house to here in 5 minutes) and a puppy. Michael Bay jumps out of his car moments before it explodes and lands in a bed of carnations. His radio lands next to him and he hears that Los Angeles is in a crisis because someone is exploding things for no reason! What kind of sick uncreative bastard would do such a thing? Michael Bay doesn’t know, but clearly it’s up to him, a regular person, to save everyone and not call the cops.

Michael Bay looks around and sees that the neighbor chick’s dress is on fire so he repeatedly throws himself against her until it goes out. He quickly grabs the neighbor chick and pulls her onto the motorcycle he now has and knows how to ride. “Clearly the solution to this problem is somewhere in America, but all the way across town from where we are right now.” Then he gives her a carnation. She tells him she’ll help, disobeying direct orders from her father. Problem is, now they have to meet several semi-interesting characters on the way to across town. All these characters will be good-looking experts on anything they need to know about everything that’s happening to them. At first they won’t want to help Michael Bay because he storms into their lab and is all like “The world is ending, you have to help us!” and they don’t believe him because his outfit is dirty and he used clever trickery to get past security. But then someone they care about dies or almost dies, so they decide to help him after all. All the while, things continue to explode inexplicably, each instance even more inexplicable than the last.

Somehow, Michael Bay and neighbor chick make it to the place they’re supposed to be with negative 3 gallons of gas left in the tank, a flat tire, and a kid. Michael Bay tells the kid to stay put so that he and neighbor chick can run in slow motion while holding hands. They jump over the moat of lava that protects the building and land in a sandbox. As soon as they get out of the sandbox, the sandbox explodes! Michael Bay: “We gotta move quick! The solution is on the 5th floor. Clearly the best way to get there is to not take the stairs or the elevator, but to use this grappling hook and struggle to climb up.” Michael Bay fires the grappling hook he had in his pocket this whole time and starts to climb up, followed by the neighbor chick. Suddenly, the rope explodes right by the neighbor chick! She is now holding on to dear life by the thread of Michael Bay’s wispy leg. “Your leather pants are too slippery! I can’t hold on much longer!” she cries. Just then the neighbor chick’s skirt explodes, but instead of killing her, the explosion catapults her to the 5th floor. She then pulls Michael Bay up to safety. They make meaningful eye contact.

Michael Bay and the neighbor chick make it to the dark room they were supposed to be in with only 1 minute left to stop what they were supposed to stop. The dark room is creepy and ominous, but Michael Bay forges on slowly. Suddenly, out of a fold in the darkness, a highly skilled ninja pounces on Michael Bay! Michael Bay fights the ninja using only his street smarts and his shady

past to guide him. The neighbor chick stands by and watches helplessly from the sidelines while not looking for the light switch. Miraculously, Michael Bay narrowly escapes each deathly blow except for one. The one at the end. Michael Bay somehow survives the deathly blow and kicks the ninja once. The ninja is down, and so is his plane!

Now Michael Bay can focus on stopping what he was supposed to stop. “Oh no!” cries the neighbor chick. “8 minutes ago, there was only 1 minute left to save the world! We’re out of time!” “It’s okay,” says Michael Bay, confidence oozing down his cheekbone crevices. “We still have 12 seconds left.” Michael Bay slowly and deliberately pushes the spacebar on his computer, effectively stopping the inexplicable explosions that were taking place in the movie he was editing. His movie.

Michael Bay and the neighbor chick look at each other. It’s over. They almost died several times and their skin is extremely shiny, but it couldn't have been too bad because there are no signs of blood. Will their bonding over this set of highly unlikely circumstances be enough for the neighbor chick to overcome the fact that she would never actually be attracted to Michael Bay otherwise?

Only a Linkin Park song and a sunset can say.

LENS FLARE WIPE!

A Diary Entry By Rachel Zoe

Dear Diary,

Today was the longest Fashion Week ever. I was at work, trying to get Taylor to get Armani to get a dress for Cameron Diaz when literally, my world came crashing down in accessory pieces all over the ground. I was literally on the floor standing up with my feet on the floor and lying down on the couch with my feet in the air. I was so overwhelmed with dizzy feelings like all of a sudden and I was just like could not work.

After I woke up from falling asleep on seven throw pillows, Rodge took me to the doctor and she said I had vertigo, which is like the worst thing you can have in the history of sicknesses because you don’t know how long it’s going to last. At least if you have cancer you know how long you have it. The doctor person told me I should take it easy for a while, which means I can’t freak out over celebrity dress wearers, which makes me die. But not like, die die like I would over anything Lagerfeld does, but die as in I die.

So I didn’t go to work with my body there, but I started working on this exhibit thing that would give away my jewelry and sell it for the benefit of cancer people. I had to pick jewelry to give away, which was difficult because all of my jewelry pieces say stories about me. But it was okay because I still have most percent of my jewelry

I’m like, bananas glad that I had this show because being deathly ill with vertigo really made me appreciate cancer people with a similar sickness.

Thx for letting me keep my thoughts all over you, D. I’m texting Tay Tay right now to send you a thank you garment. I can’t tell Brad to do work because he’s the fun one.

Xoxzoe,
Rache