"Brab" shopping.

Sometimes when you need a laugh, all you have to do is hang around some midgets.

And by midgets, I mean one of my 6 year old nieces, and one of my 4 year old nephews (yes, I have two sets).

Last Saturday I was running around with my sister and her midgets, when something came up and we realized we need to get sis a bra*. Of course the kids don't want to wait in the car, which would be the easiest thing to do as my sister ran in to get what she needed. We all get out of the car and head to the "intimates" section.

As I'm holding the door open for a lady exiting the store, my nephew decides to scream, "HEY MOM, WHAT'S A BRAB?"

This sets the lady into hysterics along with me as well. But it does not end there. When we finally get to the bra section, the nephew decides to scream again even louder, "HEY MOM. YOU DIDN'T TELL ME WHAT A BRAB WAS? IS THIS ONE?" [pointing at the largest bra I have ever seen.]

I had to walk away at that point, because the midgets would sense I was amused by their shenanigans and would try to cause more trouble.

I see my niece from about 20 feet away bring my sister over a bustier of some sort. She asks, "Mom, would this one work?" My sister takes one look at the risque undergarment my niece has suggested she buy, and like me, tries to play it off like she is angry. These kids smell blood, and we cannot let them win.

My nephew is still not done. He shouts at the top of his lungs, "MOM ARE THESE FOR BOOBS?" Now I can't hold it in any longer. I'm clutching my guy trying to hold in the laughter, but having a 4 year old scream about boobs is too much for me to pretend to be angry. He hears me laughing, and then it's fucking on. He grabs the closest bra and starts running around the department store. People are staring as I'm chasing after him shouting, "[Nephew]! You touch it, they're going to make you unpack boxes for the rest of the day! Not even mom or Auntie Megan can save you then?" He's a smart one though, and can see through my lies.

I'm yelling at my sister to hurry up, because now my niece has gotten in on the action. I'm chasing around the two midgets around Macy's, and I can't fucking catch them. Did my sister grease them up or something before we went out? Those little suckers are fast.

My sister yells at me that she doesn't know her bra size, and to check her bra size. Finally the midgets stop running, and I now have to get to second base with my sister in the middle of the department store. I tell her the size (that is private, but my sister has nice boobs), and she gets a new bra, checks out, and we're done.

While I was impressed that my nephew has already begun to discern between his parts and lady parts, I am a little nervous that my niece picked the most provocative undergarment in a 30 ft. radius for my sister to wear.

When a friend writes a good post, I pimp it out

So please go check out Jebus H Christ's post at the 'Stache (yes, I am turning that website into my blogroll).

Thank you,
The Mgmt.

Burt Reynolds' Mustache

I gotta post over there today! How exciting! Don't worry, it's still as shitty as everything else I write.

I wish I had a cool first name like him so more freaks could find my blog

3:03 PM Amish: yea
i'm pretty easy to find
me: you have groupies everywhere!
3:04 PM Amish: haha i know
4 groupies, 10 friends that read
72 people looking for Amish porn
me: hahaha
you just got an LOLz
3:05 PM Amish: haha
me: i wonder why they like amish porn
like what is so special about the amish?
their bodies are still human
Amish: not sure
yea
me: if you're going to have a fetish, make it count
like beastiality
an amish girl looks the same as i do naked, except for the butter churn in the background, a bonnet, and the fact she may have to park her horse outside your house for a booty call
3:06 PM Amish: hahahahahaha
maybe its the bonnet

Are you kidding me with this shit?

I received this comment the other day on a previous post, but ignored it cause I was on my way out the door and didn't have time to properly respond:

But if you leave, what will I do with my copious amount of free time? I live in OHIO - I NEED you!! (Especially if the Indians don't get their shit together tonight...)

Please don't go away. I like knowing that there are drunker, sluttier girls out there than I am. You make me feel better about myself.

What kind of back-handed compliment is that?

It's quite puzzling as the first half of the comment she praises me for my superior blogging skillz (who wouldn't?), but then goes on to imply that she is somehow better than me. We all know this is not mathematically possible. We all know there is no real number beyond FUCKING AWESOME.

Oh, and Girl in Ohio, I would like you to point me to the part of my blog where I described sleeping around...anywhere. If you can't discern between self-deprecation and sarcasm with actual reality, I don't want you reading anyways.

Anyone else want a piece of me?

[cracks neck while running in place and maniacally jabbing fists into air]

LET'S DO THIS.

(Oh, and Seif, I'm never leaving you)

I'm still blogging!

Just not here, but here. Go check out my first inaugural SportsBlahg post! WOOOOOO!

I'll be back soon, just enjoying my blogging vacation.

So, like, I'm a sports blogger now and stuff

My friend Chris approached me with a proposition to start a sports blog with him, and I agreed. I'm a little nervous since while I can write about my own life in a somewhat humorous way (and by humorous, I mean you all stare blankly at your computer wondering what the fuck I am talking about most days), it's new and unknown territory for me to write about sports.

Cut to me 6 months from now watching Nascar on the tv at the bar below my apartment with needles sticking out of my arm screaming, "I WISH I KNEW HOW TO QUIT YOU."

Sigh.

So go check it out, yo.

Sports Blahg

Apparently my new blog, which I have yet to mark my territory by peeing on it, or you know, actually writing, has already been linked by Deadspin.

NOTE: dmbmeg is gone. I've created a new moniker: Rosemary Cross. I thought it best to leave dmbmeg here, not to mix business with pleasure. You know how we do.

Also and surprisingly, I've received several emails from people asking me not to quit. I really appreciate them, really I do. I never said I was gone for good, I like attention too much for that. Rather this was a self imposed sabbatical til things cool off. As long as you guys behave, I'll be returning.

This isn't a post, it is a warning.

I just got done reading this post. I don't read this blog ever (I find it really, really sad and disturbing), but it was emailed to me from a friend knowing my story. Please go read #8 right now.

Back when I broke my leg in NYC, I was forced to take cabs everywhere I went to get to and from work. I remember it was a warm September day, and I was wearing a skirt. I hailed an off-duty cab around 38th and Broadway. He asked where I was going. I told him my old address in Murray Hill. He agreed to take me.

He was friendly enough, as most NYC cab drivers are. You either get the kind who refuse to talk to you, or the ones who don't shut up.

This guy was one who did not shut up, but I'm friendly to most in New York (much to my detriment as you will read), so I went along with it. Eventually around 30th and 2nd (I lived very close to there), he pulled over on a corner (thankfully high traffic and lots of sunlight), and asked to read my palm. I let him because I thought he was harmless, and it was quirky.

Then he told me I was going to gain a lot of weight when I got older and kept on staring at my chest. At this point, I knew it was weird. So I went to get out of the cab. He motioned for me to join him in the front seat.

I refused to because, 1) I'M NOT FUCKING STUPID, 2) I had a broken foot and couldn't walk without the aid of crutches, and 3) I'M NOT FUCKING STUPID.

This should have been my cue to fuck my broken foot and start running, but I didn't. He started the car again, and that could have been the most nervous I have ever been in my whole entire life. I was handicapped, and he could have seriously taken advantage of me.

Finally he stopped the cab after a block when I threatened to yell out the cab window. I didn't want this fucker to know where I lived either, but I was too frightened to get his license number.

I hobbled on home, told my boyfriend about it, who simply shrugged. I honestly forgot about it until now.

I know there are a lot of women in NYC who read my blog, so please, if you are ever in a cab with this guy, get out immediately. Don't even try and be nice. Sadly, this is a lesson I have had to learn over and over again in New York. I'm a slow learner, apparently.

Now, I'm going to return to my blogger isolation. Please, I don't want any comments about how I "couldn't stay away" or any of that shit. Not even from friends. I just felt this needed to be addressed.

I might be done.

Last night something transpired in which I betrayed a friend's trust. While things are fine there, Over the past couple months I hurt someone I care about via this blog. Over the last week, I hurt that person again.

Between questionable stalkers, and having my parents find my blog, this blog is occasionally has more trouble than it's worth. However, despite how shitty all of that made me feel, none of that was directly correlated with people's trust in me, but rather people's (my mom's) interpretation of how I should behave.

When you hurt someone, your feelings become secondary, and that is something I am trying to learn. Hopefully, in time, I will regain that person's trust.

This isn't me gone for good. I know people make a habit out of saying bye, then coming back a week later (hint). That could be me, it could not. It might just be I cut out my personal life, or it could just mean that I post less frequently. Who knows?

No offense to you all, but my main concern is trying to regain that person that I hurt's trust. If that means I don't get daily adoration and have to piss a few of you off to do it, so be it. Your friends are always worth it.

College football in New York

A couple weeks ago, my friend CrimeNotes eloquently described what it is like living in New York as a college football fan. Given that most natives of the Tri-State area went to colleges where one of the requirements is you pop your collar and turn up the douche level upon entering the school as a freshman, it's nice to know my fellow football loving fans are still here. Even if you did go to Notre Dame.

NOTE: I'm sorry, ex-boyfriend, if you are reading this, I did have a lovely time at Amherst College when I visited you (mainly for the Beirut tournaments), but your proclamations of, "THIS IS THE GREATEST SCHOOL EV-ER!" when visiting me in Iowa City lead me to believe your $40,000 you spent a year on your education wasn't nearly worth the $8000 I spent (er, dad) on my out-of-state tuition, Pokey Sticks, a few Organic Chem and Physics books, and Busch Light. I mean, did YOU ever get to bring your backpack to the bar after class on Friday Thursday? Sucker.

Back to CrimeNotes' post. New York is mainly known for being a professional sports town. There are just no colleges around that are contenders in anything regarding the NCAA--with the exception of Rutgers last year when they lit the Empire State Building in "Fair Weather Fan" Scarlet, and the occasional appearance of St. John's University into March Madness.

Those of us non-native New Yorkers (thank God), and went to a football-centric school, usually all go to a designated bar each and every Saturday to watch our respective schools battle it out. Rounds of shots are ordered, fight songs are blared over antiquated stereo systems (dive bars, you know), fist pumping is mandatory, and a good time is imminent.

However, due to a turn of events last year, I am no longer comfortable at the bar NYC Iowa Alumni call home. I basically have to wait til my friend Joey comes in from DC so he can pretend to me my boyfriend (yeah, it's like that) before I ever step foot in that place again.

So every Saturday this year I have found myself a fan without a home. I bounce from bar to bar, begging the bartenders to turn on a shitty game from an even shittier team. It's hard, but I'm a fan. And this is what we do.

This last weekend my gracious roommate invited me to her UGA bar, which [retching] meant I'd be thrown in the mix with SEC fans.

It was bad.
It was like I travelled down to Athens, GA itself. This was my first attempt back into an SEC bar since I almost got beat up during the Florida/LSU game last year. There I was, in my smelly Iowa shirt, surrounded by guys with polos tucked into their sensible khakis and wearing running shoes with every other word out of their mouths being "y'all." I'm just not used to this.

I know every team has their annoying fans, but Jesus Christ people. This one chick was drinking white wine, screaming belligerently at the television. I think the majority of girls had cute little "G"'s painted on their cheeks wearing their newest Tory Burch flats. I don't think anyone was even watching the game (I don't care if you are losing!) A couple of times a player fell on the line of scrimmage, and the place erupted in such thunderous applause you would have thought someone intercepted a ball and ran it in for a touchdown. And what's with the woofing? Are you supposed to be bulldogs?

Oh did I mention there were about 80 tv's in the place, and not one was playing another game? People, don't you want to know how other teams are doing throughout the day? At least the ones in your conference?

Sorry, roommate. I just don't understand. But I guess even Bulldog football is better than no football. I do love this town.

I met a boy last night

Before you bust out the confetti, hear me out.

Last night I went out with my roommate to some guy on her flag football team's birthday. It was in the Theatre District, you know since this guy is an "actor" [rolls eyes]. She asked if I wanted to go at about 7pm Sunday night. I took a look at the sad state of my life, (i.e. ripped pajamas, pizza boxes strewn about, frazzled hair) and decided that I should go. Who am I to turn down a party?

So we get there, and the place is full of gay guys. Like really gay. Like, I think that guy is wearing women's clothing gay. Which is cool, but hardly the type I want to practice making babies with (although they would significantly help me with the size of my wardrobe).

I spot this guy, and he is wearing a Penn State hat. For those of you who suck, my beloved Iowa Hawkeyes got bent over a chair by the Penn State Nittany Lions--a game I was supposed to be at.

It's one of those moments when you can't take your eyes off each other. I know this, because I don't have many of those moments (usually too consumed with my friends and my drink), especially with my roommate who is really fucking hot. I have no problem making a move, so I went in.

I found out he 1) was a Mets fan, YAY!, 2) From New York. BOOOOO!, 3) Worked in finance. Eh. 4) Not from New Jersey or Long Island, YAY!!!! And uh, that's about it (I'm not good at listening to anyone but myself).

This is when it gets good.

His own "actor" friend that was there (I assume that was his connection to the party), and I asked how a guy from NY who went to Penn State befriended an actor from Texas who went to Ole Miss. Wait for it....

"We worked together."

"Oh, where?" I inquire.

"Applebee's."

"What, like over summers, etc?"

"No, like a couple years ago."

I snort out my Smithwick's, and think, "Megan, don't be shallow. Don't be shallow." Clearly the guy has a semi-decent job now (I think?). I mean, I understand if you can't find a good job. But, dude, be a bartender, or work at a porn shop. Not fucking work at Applebee's.

I'm still in there. I spent a good hour and a half of my time talking to this guy, so I'm determined to like him. His "actor" friend starts talking about how great 3:10 to Yuma was, and since I recently saw the Darjeeling Limited, I chime in that is the only movie I've seen recently. I don't think the actor guy even hears me cause he is too busy checking himself out in the mirror.

I go on telling Penn State boy it was really good, and how I am a huge Wes Anderson fan.

"Who?" he asked.

Well, would you look at the time!

I'm clearly way too fucking picky here, people. I'm debating if I should just go ahead and buy my 15 cats now.

My dearest Flop

Dearest Flop,

I hereby declare, since you are standing right in front of me, henceforth, or something, that you declared that if Cleveland won the series, you would watch exactly 3 episodes of Frank TV on TBS.

This post is to remind you, since we don't have any paper to sign in blood, or something, that you just declared if the Indians win the series, you will watch no less than FOUR EPISODES of Frank TV on TBS.

I do appreciate you lifting me up over your shoulder when Hafner had his game winning RBI. It made me feel skinny.

FOUR EPISODES.

(ps readers, Flop got me drunk off of Sam Adam's Oktoberfest and refused to feed me.)

Fun comments!

I love it when people fight on my blog. The Medieval Times post is fucking up my blog. It'll be back up shortly. In the meantime, enjoy what went down inthe past hour.




CrimeNotes said...
Nice layout, Pumpkin.

October 5, 2007 12:06 PM


JHC said...
The place-mat that commands you to dial 1-888-WE-JOUST is fucking awesome. I don't want to marry it but I do want to look at it while I masturbate. I like it that much!

October 5, 2007 12:20 PM


New Texan said...
I assure you, no one reading this blog thinks "New Yorkers are all cosmopolitan and shit."!!

Why would a young boy want to catch a flower thrown by a (k)night at his birthday party? How did you resist calling him a fag and asking if his little friend was his boy friend, or just a friend?

October 5, 2007 12:29 PM


Peter DeWolf said...
I'd call you my wenches with or without Medieval Times.

What's up with the centered comments?

October 5, 2007 12:40 PM


JHC said...
Yes, Megan, how did you resist using such a hilarious, fun-filled term like "fag"? That is such a great word! It is the best! It's almost as much fun as calling someone "nigger". Hateful slurs don't get enough play, in my opinion. Good call, New Texan!

October 5, 2007 12:48 PM


New Texan said...
Oh, sorry... I forgot that this blog and the comment section were so politically correct and that comments from totally anonymous people can be so extremely offensive.

You Iowa fans get all worked up the day before a loss, don't you?

(and so seals my fate in the Blog of Love... I'm ok with it though).

October 5, 2007 12:58 PM


JHC said...
This isn't a political correctness issue, not even in Texas. Labeling someone a fag is offensive all the time, not just in blue states. You can call people whatever you feel comfortable with. Go crazy. And when I see it, I'll go ahead and let you know that I think you're an asshole for saying something that I find to be offensive, whether it's in a comment thread on a blog, or at a bar. On another note, it's also the lowest common denominator of humor. I'm personally insulted that you think it's funny to call someone a fag.
Sincerely,
Everyone (but you) in the 21st Century

October 5, 2007 1:16 PM


Maxine Dangerous said...
Go on, JHC. I couldn't have said it better.

October 5, 2007 1:18 PM


TK said...
OK, kids, retreat to a neutral corner.

Tex, you know I've got your back, but... man has a point.

Now please. Can we get back to talking about how absolutely insane it is that a grown woman went to Medieval freakin' Times? Of her own volition? SOBER?

October 5, 2007 1:20 PM


Hellafied said...
You went to Medieval Times without me? That cuts deep, Don.

It's like when Spock had to fight Kirk on Star Trek. BEST FRIENDS, FORCED TO DO BATTLE!

Duh duh de de de de de de de duh de de de...BRRRRRRRAHHHHH BRRRAAH!

October 5, 2007 1:24 PM


JHC said...
:Maxine D: Thanks.

:TK: Nobody puts JHC in the corner.

:Hellafied: Hi.

:New Texan: And another thing, you've totally misappropriated the term political correctness. Being PC is calling a retard "developmentally disabled" or telling kids they can't say "Merry Christmas" at school. What you said was hate speech. Not the same thing. I hope you see the distinction. Also, for future reference, when someone who's just made a joke about masturbating to a place-mat tells you you're out of line, I think it's best to admit you're wrong, apologize, and maybe ask the admin to remove your comment.
Here to help.

October 5, 2007 1:40 PM

The Red Sox and Terrorism, by Mr. TK

me: i'm praying for a sox/indians series
alcs
2:40 PM TK: me too
did i mention how furious i am about tonight?
me: what? what happened?
2:41 PM TK: i have to go to a meeting.
it starts at 6:30
i hate the world
me: are you fucking kidding me?
who in the entire state of mass. would be that cruel?
TK: this is one of those things I would NEVER kid about
it was scheduled a couple of months ago
2:42 PM me: fucking a
quick
TK: oh, it gets worse. my boss usually goes, but she's sending me instead. guess why?
me: stab yourself in the leg with a pen
SHE WANTS TO WATCH THE GAME
TK: worse.
SHE HAS FUCKING TICKETS.
me: BITCH
what do girls know about baseball anyways?
2:43 PM TK: she's not even a real fan anyway.
why does God hate me Megan?
WHY?
me: NO FUCKING WAY
honestly, i hate those people
give the tickets to people who care
she is just taking up space
fenway is only so big
2:44 PM TK: she is taking up space... and breaking my heart.
sniff
me: bitch
i will cut her
TK: please do. thanks.
me: k i'm on it
how long is the meeting?
2:45 PM TK: goes 'til 8... in theory.
2:46 PM me: fucking a
that shit always goes over too
TK: exactly.
i'm thinking of pulling a fire alarm, and then just vanishing into the night
2:48 PM me: you do what you have to do
TK: I will dirty bomb that motherfucker if it gets me to a bar in time.
2:49 PM me: i think the country will understand
(please fbi, don't read this)
2:50 PM TK: HA HA, JUST KIDDING, NSA. FOR REALS, IT WAS A JOKE.
me: HAR HAR HAR!
(he's the foreigner! arrest him!)
what? who said that?
2:51 PM TK: HEY!
Great. Now I can watch the rest of the games from Gitmo. Thanks.

Blog of Love: Round e (the natural number!) Wooooooo!

OK folks, we're going to make this one short, just like the midget I hired last night to pleasure me. I'm sorry. "Little person." You know how we do...

DMBMEG's picks:

Winner by a landslide:
Garrett Reid - Sorry folksies, this one wasn't even close. Garrett wrote the only thing worth mentioning out of all you fools. It's a great story full of sex, drugs, intrigue, and stolen cell phones. You can go read about it here.

You get ribbons too!
Jebus H. Christ - only for being on of the most adorable 5 year olds I have ever seen, second to my munchkins of course (see, I can be nice). (Note to readers: Jebus is actually full grown, not a 5 year old with remarkable syntax). For reals though. Blythe and I have come to expect pictures from you, and as of 11:51 pm I have nothing in my inbox [taps foot impatiently].

Cajun Boy in the City - Dude, I can't fucking read your blog in Firefox, and it seriously pisses my shit OFF. However, you could be the tallest human being I have ever come in contact with, and I am scared of what you might do to me otherwise. Dearest Cajun - can we please stop with all the Gawker salad tossing though?

Mmmm K Bye!
Shain - You're a dick. That comment was UNCALLED FOR. Blythe was scared to cut you, but I sure ain't! BRING IT.

[Redacted] - Oh what a sweet [redacted]. You were my winner last week because you commented, and this pissed of the Great East Village Idiot. You seem to have forgotten about me, so, um, BYE. PS, call me?

Superbee - Only cause we kicked off all the other gay guys, and I don't want to compete for the attention of any bartenders. Thanks. (XOXO)

Last minute note:
White writing this, I am IMing with the great Business or Leisure. I'll let the conversation speak for itself, but it is so delicious I had to post it:

11:53 PM BoL:Hopefully you willn't have had a crazy day. Hopefully, you will be a horse galloping along the waterline of a white hot beach.

11:55 PM Or a lithe cougar awaiting a slight run for prey.

WHAT AM I TALKING ABOUT

me: ok um

you just made it on to blog of love with that

so THANK YOU

11:56 PM BoL: Um, thank you?

11:57 PM Man, the animals just come out when I get trashbird drunk.

See what I mean?

me: it's beautiful

11:58 PM BoL: Man, I am gonna totally write the most ridiculouspost ever tonight.

11:59 PM me: YES

BoL: It's gonna be ONE sentence containing like 12 sweet animals.

Now I'll let Blythe take over.

Wow. I can't believe we've made it to round 17.3 already! Seems like just yesterday Cherry was still in the game. Oh dear. I think I'm getting ahead of myself... Also, I will keep things short and sweet this week.

Repeat Offender/Winner

Dan aka the VTKid. I'm not sure whether to fall in love or file a restraining order.

Off with your heads!

Cherry - You know I love you. I'm just not in love with you. Also, you keep talking shit in comments. Proper!

Alex - Sorry buddy. Had to be done. DQd for lack of posting. Dude! You get paid for one of these! ( This one.)

Peter - Basically, you're Canadian, so...

Who does that leave? And where are the pictures? I was promised photos. If you want in for the finale, step it up, yo!

A favor

Probably 99% of you don't know that my mom was initially diagnosed with breast cancer in the Spring of 2002. After months of chemo, she went into remission only to be rediagnosed with Stage 4 cancer in the fall of 2004. Basically that means her cancer is terminal. I don't want to write a sad, long post about how my mom is sick, nor do I want any sympathy comments. That is not what this post is about.

What this is about is one of my friends here in New York is training for the NYC marathon this year, and he is raising money for the Young Survivor's Coalition--"a network of breast cancer survivors and supporters that deals specifically with the unique challenges that young women diagnosed with breast cancer face."

Since he is running for something close to my heart, I feel the need to help him out anyway I can (and no, being drunk as he passes me on the Upper East Side at mile 18 is not one of them).

Please go here to donate if you so choose.

He is also documenting his training at his fancy new blog. Sure, he has only updated his blog like 3 or 4 times, but the last post is a good one. I mean, we all can't be as good of bloggers as yours truly, right?

http://temkintrains.blogspot.com/

Thanks.

And I'm back!

So last week I was on a business trip in LA then on to Seattle. I love Seattle. It's one of my favorite cities 3rd to New York and San Francisco. Los Angeles on the other hand, is not really my bag of tea. Some notes/observations:

• Running on Sunset Blvd is not fun. Too many hills. Also, does anyone even run in LA? By 7am on the West Side Highway, I'm throwing 'bows trying to get through all the runners.
• Driving on the 405 is a shit show. The car pool lane was completely empty because no one understands the concept of "conservation."
• Except the people who own a Prius--but they drive their Hummers at night.
• When in Laguna Beach, it is impossible not to start humming, "Let the rain fall down, and wake my dreams."
• All houses in Laguna Beach look like LC's.
• At one point during one of my nights out, I was at a restaurant with members of the Red Hot Chili Peppers (minus Anthony), Cedric the "You can't even smoke on Earf no more" Entertainer, and Jo and Slade, "stars" of the Bravo reality show, the Real Housewives of Orange County.
• Your feet don't get dirty from wearing flip flops.
• The smog is ridiculous
• The people are even worse.
• I hate LA.

I'm grumpy from this weekend (Hi, Mets, Hawkeyes, Vikings, Twins...you all suck). Sorry for the shitty post.

Also, but not related:

Everyone needs to go see the Darjeeling Limited, Wes Anderson's new masterpiece. I'm a huge Tenenbaums fan, and this movie has Tenenbaum undertones (the subject matter is similar). It was one of the best movies I've seen in a while. I almost gave one of the last scenes in the movie a slow clap (you'll know it when you see it). Go! Now! In case you were curious, my rankings are:

1. The Royal Tenenbaums
2. Rushmore
3. Bottle Rocket
4. The Life Aquatic

I'd say The DL could fall between 1 & 2 or 2 & 3. Hard to say. I need to see it a few more times to appreciate it. Just like all of his movies, they only get better with time.