Thursday, June 30, 2011

steak & hamburger ladies

Where are all the ladies who love steak and hamburgers?  Don't get me wrong - I'm really happy my eating preferences (for the most part) were finally captured by Amy Poehler in Parks & Recreation.

I mean, she probably doesn't really eat those things because it's just such a hilarious joke to put whipped cream on EVERYTHING.  So funny because it is absurd!  I mean, I've never put whipped cream in my coffee.  No, sir!  Not this gal!  Nobody would want that.  Not a person - not a dog - not even a bear! Because it's soooo crazy to put whipped CREAM in coffee.  As creamer.  That's just nuts.  Who would want to employ such an awesome time saver since if you think about it you're just gonna end up dumping a ton of milk or cream and sugar in there anyway.  Who would want to be such a little champion?  Such a genius?  Such a neat lady?  So.  Yes.  Moving on.

And, sure, you don't see me eat a lot of waffles but, OH, if I had a waffle maker!

NOTE -  By OH I didn't mean Ohio.  I never mean Ohio.

Anyway - I never see a cool lady who really loves steak or a hamburger.  I need a steak lady.  A hamburger lady.  A lady who loves steak and hamburgers with whom I can identify.  I guess all the strong ladies in the media are more things like cheese eaters.  Sandwich eaters.  Chip eaters.  The aforementioned waffle eater.  You don't get to see a lady going really crazy for a hamburger.  And, yes, hamburger counts as steak.  All cow is steak.

I mean a seriously cool lady.  You see all sorts of "sexy" ladies going around trying to ruin hamburgers by eating them in bikinis.  They're not even real "sexy" ladies.

NOTE - The ladies are in bikinis, not the hamburgers.

Here are cool ladies who should be doing more for the hamburger.
Mario needs to hamburger doubletime because he's a big girl with big feelings.
Natalie probably should've hamburgered here.  She wouldn't have been such a grouchy ballerina if she just hamburgered.
Tilda can manage to hamburger even if her dress is totally falling off one of her boobs.
Katharine hamburgers in b&w.  That means black and white.
Oprah hamburgers out of proportion.

NOTE - I would appreciate it if we could all start using "to hamburger" as a verb.  And I would steak up some ultra cool ladies, but I feel like to get to steak mountain we first have to ford the hamburger river without our oxen dying.  So take a note from these cool ladies who I've forced to hamburger and hamburger yourself.

We need more role models eating cows.  I know it's not all trendy like eating raw - chowing down on a living, barking sea lion.  And it's not all that hip like being a vegetarian and eating what the dinosaurs ate - ROCKS!  But it's a cause towards which I'd like to direct some attention.

Why, just yesterday I had a hamburger.  Made out of a buffalo, sure.  But what are buffalos if not hunchbacked hairier cows?  It's like they're cousins.  And if you can't eat someone, eat their cousin.

Wednesday, June 29, 2011

no pretzel dog for me

How come I can be having a perfectly lovely day and then everything comes crashing down like thunder made from dirty underpants?

My car's rear window and side window are all smashed in and things were stolen.  People were caught and all but some of the stuff shall never be seen nor heard from again.  I am going to blame San Francisco.  I drove around in my car in Los Angeles for practically 7 years and never was my car smashed or mashed into on purpose.

I don't get the big hooha about this town.  I know no city is perfect and all, but I don't get why people have to get all hotsity-totsity about how great SF is.  It's not that great.  It's like how people feel about...I don't how people feel about like I don't know I don't know - Nutella.  Or the sound of baby laughter. Or True Blood.  They're just kind of ... eh.  If not downright awful.

I know I was just saying I miss LA and how if the place stinks it's probably you.  But whatever.  I don't care.  All that is moot when you talk about a city that just kinda butts out stinks.  Or I guess really the problem is how I'd heard how much people LOVE it.  People I know.  And now I'm here and I see it and I'm like - huh?  What??  Who?  So I guess it's really more like The Wire.  Which I'm sure is a great show once you get past the first few episodes because everyone says so - but I couldn't even get through episode 2.  It might be worth it - but I'll never know!  And that's okay.

Maybe San Francisco is great after you get used to it.  But it sure doesn't seem worth it.  It's like knowing someone who has the capability to be superfun, but also has a really grating voice and sometimes smells like rotten eggs and also they never pay for tax or tips on restaurant bills.  The bad bits make the superfun bits shrink to tuppence!  TUPPENCE!

And I know I'm romanticizing NY and LA as I definitely have hated those places very strongly at times. But San Francisco is like wearing two left shoes.  It just feels weird.  And wrong.  And people get all offended when I say I don't think I'd want to live here.  If people say they don't like LA or NY or wherever I don't care.  I just don't like when people are like, "LA - UGH."  That's just unfair.  That's like saying, "Michael Bay - UGH!"  Yes, yes, he's mostly UGH - but it's like you've never even seen The Rock!
And until you've lived inside of Michael Bay you shouldn't be all UGH.  But I've lived in San Francisco for more than 90 days now!  That's a good chunk of a year.  And mostly I'd have to say UGH.  Not entirely.  But generally.  Yes, I'm gonna generalize.  I just did.

Anyway.  The point is.
I went to the mall the next day and really wanted a pretzel dog.  And the jerk in front of me bought the last one!!  And that stinks!

And speaking of pretzels.  If you're in New York.  You have to have a City Bakery pretzel croissant!  If ya love pretzels and ya love croissants - you'll love pretzel croissants!

But let's turn this frown around.  This city also has some nice things.  It had my hit play.
It has me.  Aaaand the bay is nice to look at.  And the camera obscura is totally cool.
And the Musee Mecanique.

And some select supercooool people.  They know who they are.  But this town - it's not the pair of socks for me.  I thought it could be.  Then I bought the socks.  And there were lazy moths in the toes who were being totally gross hanging out down there but were too lazy to eat their way out and completely ruin the socks.  But they made them unwearable.  That is what SF is.  It is an unwearable pair of socks with lazy moths stuck in the toes.

And those just aren't the socks for me.

Thursday, June 16, 2011

I wrote a hit play and (co-)directed it

Sometimes I feel like Max Fischer in Rushmore.  And those times are when I write hit plays and direct them (sort of on the directing but whatever).  I never realized quite exactly how much fun putting together a play in real life could be.  Sure, I know how fun it is to pretend you're putting on a play when you're IN another play or IN a movie.  Not really actually since I've never done either of those things but who cares?  NOT THIS GAL!  But to really do it really real in the real world and real life?  SO FUN.
It's like I get to be Judy Garland and Mickey Rooney all rolled into one!  Putting on the big show in the local barn house to raise money so the neighborhood slop factory won't have to shut it's doors.  Although Judy really creeps me out and all I really know of Mickey is from Dana Carvey's impression of him on SNL.  Which I saw one time.  Maybe it wasn't even Dana Carvey.  But he probably deserves to get mentioned on the internet at least once every
To digress, did you all know Judy Garland was supposed to be a little girl in the Wizard of Oz?  I had NO idea for years.  She always kind of creeped me out in that movie, but when I found out she was supposed to be Shirley Temple originally that is NUTS.  She's like a lady with full on lady parts prancing around pretending she's 10?  That's CRAZY.  And unnecessary!  It's like me getting cast in a Disney Channel show for TWEENS, which sure is a dream but is impossible because I am too OLD and I know it.  I know it.  But oh, if I could - I'd get to wear such colorful and sassy outfits!
And I'd get to fall down a lot, too.  And I'm already super good at both those things.

Anyway.  I think I was saying it's fun to do plays.  And I wanna do one again.  And if any channel wants to cast me in the part of a cheeky teenager who wears sparkly outfits and falls down a lot, I'm around.  Just hanging out.  Soooo.  Yeah.

Monday, June 6, 2011


When you are somewhere new, you miss things.  This is simply a fact.  You miss things you never even thought about.  And some people might be saying, "HEY!  They're just 'things' - what are you, some sort of mass-consumptive-thing-needer??"  And I would say, "SHUT UP!  Everybody needs things!  We're not cave people.  We're not Flintstones who are able to use dinosaurs as showers, record players and toilets!  This is simply a fact."
And sometimes you come from cities that people don't like.  But might I add it is for no good reason?  I might.  I would.  I just did!  

So here are some things I miss about my hometown and reasons why it is wonderful and why you shouldn't insult it when you know nothing about it and have probably never really been there in a way that allows you to form an educated and non-idiotic opinion.

On a personal level - I miss my kitchen.  
My kitchen was oven-less for years.  At least a thousand days passed me by with no working oven.  Finally, my dreams came true and an oven was installed.  An upper oven and a lower oven.  An oven that baked.  An oven that broiled.  An oven of magic and mystery and romance.  Alas, I left mere months later.  Oven, I miss you.  

I miss my bed.  It was home to way too many blankets and far too many pillows.  Practically to the point of discomfort.  It was my desk and my dining table.  As my desk was too covered with crap to sit at and write and same goes for the dining table.  Bed, I miss you.

I miss my closet.  My closet could fit my hanging clothes, my folded clothes and my shoes so easily.  

I miss my hanging clothes, my folded clothes and my shoes.

I miss my pumpkin-scented candle.

I miss my DVDs.  Sure, I watched the same one every night to fall asleep - and I'm sure we all know which one that is - although I DON'T miss seeing this image
Nobody would miss Alec Baldwin's tubby furry body.  The only things that should be fat and that fuzzy are baby animals.  Not men's chests.  But I also watched other DVDs!  Repeatedly.  Such as
Oh, DVD collection of which I only probably watch 2% of what I own, I miss you.  Same goes for books.  I've never been one for reading books more than once for the most part.  But I like to have my books around me and I see them and think of what a lovely time it was to read them and where I was and what notes I wrote inside them if any.  Oh, books, I miss you!

Los Angeles.  It has everything your hometown has and some other junk.  I particularly love my local library, my local deli, my local video store when I was little that is now closed and the market across the way that always smelled funny and is now a Petco, the beach sometimes but rarely but I like to know it's there, driving sometimes, those mountains somewhere, being able to go home and have it be nowhere near a business, all the movie theatres playing every movie that is out from big bad & good movies to weird movies a bunch of people made with no money and somehow got into a theatre and it is AWFUL but gosh darnitall - it's playing, how ugly most of the architecture is, coyotes wandering around, and that time a deer and deer baby were on the mountain behind my house.

I hate when people say LA is full of fake people and fake things.  At least people know they're fake if they are.  Unlike other places, say New York, where people are completely fake but think they are authentic and will rail against how un-fake they are.  And a place is only as fake and unfun and miserable as you make it.  If you're having a butt time while you're somewhere, it's your own fault.  Don't blame other people for your shortcomings.  If you can't see the good in a place, maybe you're missing something inside yourself.

I just happen to think there can be magics and wonders and enchanted people everywhere and if you surround yourself with booger eating panty gummers it's your own dumb fault.  Leave Los Angeles out of it.  

And, lastly, I miss the gorgeous LA River.
So beautiful.  As beautiful as any river ever was.