Gumdrop Lane!

the best and worst

2012-02-13T16:05:00.000-08:00

I know it's not new or nothing, but I found Bob Ross' painting videos to be so soothing.

I wonder if he was like that in real life or if it was just his painting persona. Like how I'm a really calm, quiet person but when I get to painting I turn into a belligerent drunk-with-power monsterpants. If I wasn't drunk-with-power while painting it would be crazy because, hey, I am CREATING NEW WORLDS. Bob can be a little too calm, though. I just learned about his mentor figure who has a kooky accent and great fluffy energy.

PBS is also home to such great programs as all the _________ House shows. Like Colonial House or Manor House or Regency House, etc. I'm sure it would suck to live in a different time period in an isolated house - but it would be superawesome if a whole town could be convinced to abide by the olden times rules. There must be some tiny town somewhere that would agree to that. All's I'm asking is about 500 people or so. That's liiiiiike nothing.

Like when Oprah talked to the 10 people who lived on that island in Maine. That was basically their whole town. They could totally do the different time period thing. But I guess they kind of already are. As are Amish people. But I would prefer to see a town of 500 living like Downton Abbey.

OH GOOD GOD. While looking up Downton Abbey pictures I accidentally read a season 2 spoiler. I'M ANGRY. This is the worst. I can't go on right now.

this is gonna be long and unpopular - YAY!

2012-02-05T13:07:00.000-08:00

On this Super Bowl Sunday I have nothing to say about football. But I do have something to say about the beloved movie of generations of children and adults alike: The Goonies.

Now, hold your horses. This is not going to be an ode to The Goonies. OH HO HO HO is it ever not. I know what I have to say is not going to be popular. Nobody asked me for my opinion but I'm gonna share it nonetheless, because that's what I do. So with all this in mind, let me tell you why:

I don’t get TheGoonies.

I don’t like TheGoonies.

I know this seems like ahorrible thing to say. It seemslike the kind of thing one shouldn’t say, unless they want to be called out assome sort of witch or a devil or some other character related toHalloween. Which is crazy becauseI LOVE Halloween.

But I definitelydon’t love The Goonies.

To be honest, Idon’t exactly remember what happened in the film because I found it sounappealing and my sole viewing of it was about 7 years ago. Perhaps part ofits magic is watching it when you’re young enough not to question what you’relooking at. Because all I rememberis a bunch of kids, some sort of gang of bullies, and a really creepy monsterwho might’ve been a person with some sort of mental problem and a physicaldeformity. I think they were allhunting for treasure because they needed money to save the town or some suchjunk.

One might arguethat I’m an adult so obviously I wouldn’t like some kids’ movie. Not true! I love plenty of movies and TV shows aimed at kids – be theypast or present. I watch thingsdefinitely not aimed at my demographic. There are tons of people who can attest to my age-inappropriateenthusiasm for tween programming and/or movies. Give me kids battling monsters or bullies and stories whereteenage girls get makeovers and participate in group dance numbers and I amthere. That stuff appeals toeveryone, right? And I just plainbutts-out love scamps – be they The Sandlot bunch trying to retrieve a baseballin kooky ways because knocking on that neighbor’s door is just too terrifyingor Labyrinth’s selfish jerk girl who has to practically die to retrieve theobnoxious baby she wished away.

But The Gooniesjust lacked that certain pizzazz I want to see. It was too weird without enough fun. Again, I don’t remember it exactly butI’m pretty sure a gang of adults was trying to stop the kids from doingsomething – and the mean old people gang didn’t even get to meet any violentend a la Home Alone or Home Alone 2: Lost in New York.

The thing thatmost deterred me was that oddly formed monster guy. Where did that thing even come from?? He wasn’t a person – was he? As far as I remember he was chained ina hole or something. And I thinkhe was a nice monster, but I couldn’t make it past his unmoving rubbery malformedface. Call me shallow, but Iprefer my monsters made of rocks like the Rock Biter in Neverending Story ormade of pizza like Pizza the Hut in Spaceballs.

The Gooniesshould appeal to me, which I suppose is the most frustrating part of all. With Amazon reviews like: “Within the first 5 minutes of the movie there was foullanguage by the KIDS in the movie, reference to drugs, and a small statue of anaked man with an erection” and “what childenjoys seeing a pale, dead body fall out of the closet? AWFUL” and “There isalso a scene in which a child mentions sexual torture, a fake hanging scene,and some talk about sex” – it seems like something any person could enjoy! But, sadly, no. One reviewer states, “My parents won'tlet me watch this anymore and I'm almost eleven.”

Iwish my parents had stopped me. And I was almost 18. But ifthey had stopped me that would’ve been hard since I was living 3000 miles awayfrom them at the time. Thatwould’ve required a lot of time, travel and, most of all, LOVE.

Iguess I was hoping for the magic of, say, a Hook or even the dumb delight ofD3: The Might Ducks. Yup, I’msaying the third film in The Mighty Ducks series was more enjoyable for me thanThe Goonies. The inimitableD3: the last in The Mighty Ducks trilogy, which we all know had about as muchof the original film’s stupid charm as Saved by the Bell: The New Class had ofSaved by the Bell.

MaybeI should give The Goonies another chance. But then I remember how a largepart of the film is spent in tunnels or underground or in some cavegrotto. And there’s nothing I hatemore than being in tunnels or underground or in random cave grottos. Except maybe being forced to re-watchThe Goonies.

i'm a fancy cartoon lady

2012-01-31T16:56:00.000-08:00

I've been playing a lot Dance Central 2 and it's so much better than just sitting around not playing it. I love playing as the character Miss Aubrey because she's got a lot of 'tude and mostly on account of she has a really cool outfit.

Other outfits and personalities I envied included She-Ra. She has a neat sword she basically just uses for decoration and deflecting and a kooky crown/hat. And her outfit stays miraculous glued to her body. How does she do it?!?

Phantasma from Scooby Doo and the Ghoul School had a great look going on for a ghost. I always liked her reverse skunk color hairdo and her cowboy boots are rad. Yes. RAD.

It took me a while to remember this character who had spots in her hair, but I'm glad I did. This is Cheetara (as research has informed me) from the Thundercats. I always thought she was awesome because she has spots in her wavy hair. That's almost impossible!! Also just look at her wacky facial makeup. I LOVE IT!

As the biggest and best star in the world, Barbie had some outfits so rocking they took her out of this world. Fantastic matching of skirt to hat and hat band to rest of outfit. I was jealous of all the earrings worn in Barbie and the Rockers, and with good reason.

Some might say it's wrong to admire cartoon characters and to them I say: "SHUT UP!" But it's really horrifying to google image search most of these characters. People draw some really gross versions of these and related characters. I want to unsee. I don't understand why someone would even draw Hobbes from Calvin and Hobbes with boobs, but hey. Who am I to judge? I'm somebody! And that's just nasty. So all you people doing terrible things to these beloved characters just stop!

Why not just draw Calvin in a Hobbes suit?

Garfield and Odie having a Best Friends Ever Day?

Or just forget re-drawing all together and just enjoy some photos of old time movie stars with their pets??? It's way less gross than Hobbes with boobs. By at least like 10% I swear.

Watch. Cary Grant and his dog.

Or Jimmy Stewart and his.

And if that's not good enough for you, here's Grace Kelly graciously teaching her dog to read.

The end.

guy in a tiger suit needs an apartment

2012-01-22T17:48:00.000-08:00

If you like Los Angeles and you live in Los Angeles and you like me - come see a short film I made on January 28th.

And for your trouble here is a

~*CUTE ANIMAL REPORT*~

And. What the hey! A dog adopted these baby tigers. Lookit.

And off topic as I just started thinking about girl scout cookies cause I'm HONGRY.

I love that are you hungry lady.

Anyway.

Girl scouts.

I got to thinking of television/movie girl scouts.

Like Jenny Lewis in Troop Beverly Hills - BAM:

And all of them looking supercool in sunglasses.

Then Jenny Lewis in Golden Girls as a Sunshine Cadet - BAM:

I don't know if I'd rather be a Sunshine Cadet or a Wilderness Girl. It's going to take a lot of consideration. But it didn't take long for Tim Curry to decide.

No. Not long at all.

twinsies!

2012-01-19T16:12:00.000-08:00

There are certain actors I get mixed up in real life. Or have to double take and use my noodle to discern who it is I'm looking at. And I love it! I wish I had a twin person. I've been accused of looking like a certain celebrity on more than one occasion and it's more annoying after a while than fun - but I think if I were famous myself I wouldn't mind so much. Mostly on account of having a huge mansion with a ski mountain on the property, along with an amusement park a la Richie Rich, as well as a few solid gold toilets and also 5 separate rooms for each of my Oscars.

Anyway. I recently got to thinking that John Hurt and Sir Ian McKellen are twinsies! Check it out.

Next up are the twinsies of Mandy Moore and Odette Annable. I was watching House a few months ago and I was all, "Mandy Moore?? What? This is not the place for you. You're too good." And she was. Because it wasn't her. It was this Odette Annable.

Red-headed twinsies! Emma Stone and Ruth Wilson. I popped on Luther and saw a woman who looked like a version of Emma Stone and later flipped through a magazine quickly and thought it was Emma Stone but learned it was a gal called Ruth Wilson. KABAM.

I've previously mentioned the twinsy-ing of Owen Wilson and young Dennis Hopper.

Unrelated twinsies are just so silly. Why do they look so much alike? Are they related way down the line? I think yes. Yes, definitely.

Here are some product twinsies.

Well. More like tripletsies. But they're all kinda different so I like them all. It's like how even though Sophie Dahl and Nigella Lawson are different, they're still kind of twinsies. Probably mostly on account of how they both make food and they both love their boobs.

Here are crappy movie twinsies and my thoughts/preferences.

Winner for me would have to be Chasing Liberty. This is because I love Mandy Moore and was more entertained by her desire to go to some dumb love parade in Germany than by Katie Holmes being in college or whatever boring thing she was doing. Plus, I much preferred Mandy in disguise by dying her hair and borrowing a leather jacket to Katie's dress up moment as Pamela Anderson.

Winner for me is going to neither. As I saw No Strings Attached in a hotel room and wish I hadn't and never saw Friends With Benefits and am glad for it. No. Wait. The winners here are Natalie and Mila, for being in Black Swan together and then later going on to make the two different yet exactly the same movies, basically. Congrats, gals!

A tough one, again, but I enjoyed both these movies. You have Woody Allen as a bug on the one hand, and Pixar on the other. A Bug's Life takes a slight lead and, thus, the win for that caterpillar saying he wanted a pu pu platter.

Coming soon: Armageddon v. Deep Impact, The Grey v. The Edge, The Illusionist v. The Prestige. And coming later rather than sooner: Those two Snow White movies coming out.

What they hey is that about. Are people really clamoring for two remakes of that? If so, I hope there are dozens of dwarves involved. DOZENS!!

new year, new YOO-HOO!!

2012-01-10T22:58:00.000-08:00

Yoo-hoo!

I'm back and better than ever.

It's the new year. And I've been lax. Not on account of ex-lax though. I won't make that mistake again. It's not chocolate, folks.

It's not chocolate and it doesn't even taste like it for looking a whole lot like its evil twin. You will not turn into a happy little boy at night to a slightly happier boy in the day from taking it. Anyway. The point is, in this new year I think we all need to embrace our true selves.

This can mean accepting you're a jerk.
Accepting you're lazy.
Accepting you're a jealous river trolling hag.

I'm not most of those things, but I am some of them. And I think by embracing these so-called negative aspects of our personalities we can push through the glass cloud ceiling and on to a better future mountain. A good example of what I'm talking about is Madonna.

Everybody knows I love Madonna. This is a lie. I like Madonna a whole lot and then I saw her in a couple of concerts and then I loved her. This is not to say I will not criticize her. I admire her, but she terrifies me. I wouldn't want to look like her, but I think she looks pretty good for what she's going for, which is basically

superhuman-esque

X-men-ish

abovehuman-y

cloud creature.

Madonna accepts that she is a constantly-changing, inconsistent, non-instrument playing musician she-beast. She makes it work for her. She doesn't fight it or make excuses, she celebrates herself all the time! And that helps others celebrate themselves. If Madonna gets bored she bends the world to her new will.

First she's all, "Here are my boobs - deal with it!" Then "Here is my naked body - deal with it!" Then suddenly "I like Indian things - and I'm gonna do yoga now - deal with it!" Next "Oops - I meant I like Jewish things!" And also "I love disco dancing and now I'm gonna dancersize and work on my Gollum arms - SUCK IT!" Then she's all "Oh, I have some kids, too, so here's a fashion line for them - BAM!"

And, guess what - people got on board. If you're yourself, people are gonna get on board. Hopefully being yourself doesn't entail being a horrible monstrous murderer - but even if that's the case, some nut job is gonna get on board. Or so is my understanding from the commercial I just saw for "Appropriate Adult."

This doesn't mean you give in to your negative qualities - it mean turning them into magical good ones. Madonna is crazy and she turned that into being a worldwide superstar. She could've totally just become your insane roommate who takes laxatives and will only eat chicken and then hides the chicken bones under the bed - but she didn't!

Madge came out on top. I realize we can't all have the iron will of Madonna, but we all have the tiny weak will to be a smidge better. If you're lazy - admit it! Deal with it! Admitting you're true self is the first step. Then you can choose to change it if you don't like it, or not change if you do! Easy as pies.

For instance, I like my lazy because it enables me to take powerful naps. It also influences me to make cozy sleepytime snacks like banana bread. So instead of deciding to not be lazy, I can decide to be lazy but also to be industrious. This seems like an impossible thing to be! But it's not.

Just look at Madonna - she's all like, "I wanna be an actress!" And she was doing it and loving it and but people were like, "Oh, Madonna - no! Please stop it." But she ignored them and was like, "I'm gonna do a musical!" And people were all, "Not bad, Madge."

And I was all like, "Madonna's a good actor, guys - she just needs the right vehicle, like A League of Their Own. She's great in that! You wouldn't expect Keira Knightley to appear in a non-period piece laugh-your-butt-out comedy, would you? Meaning every actor has their proper place! So, Madonna's chosen a few weinerfilms to appear in. Big whoop. She's not perfect. But she did A League of Their Own just great so just shut up!"

So let's all celebrate ourselves! Like, I can be industrious under the right circumstances. Like the lazy in me gives birth to the banana bread in me, which gives birth to more baking projects, which gives birth to more creative projects in general, which gives birth to the better, richer me! And suddenly I'm wonderful because I'm lazy. Because lazy birthed industrious. Just look at Saved by the Bell.

It was awful but part of all our lives and it thus birthed Saved by the Bell: The New Class and Saved by the Bell: The College Years,

which were so bad they made people really appreciate Saved by the Bell on a whole new level. Make bad births good, y'all. But don't birth no babies. They're rotten and I discourage it entirely both in theory and practice.

Ignore all of the above if you really stink and have qualities I will never appreciate, in which case I'm not interested. PASS! Next.

So here's to the new year and an unexpectedly long blog on Madonna as inspiration. Here's to the yoo-hoo.

where are your manners

2011-12-21T19:08:00.000-08:00

Hey. HEY. I'm mad. Mad as a four-fingered fatty being sucked down a sink-hole.

You know why? People are being just rude. Rude, I say! It's the holiday times and I know people got lots on their plates and loads in their pants, but let's remember our manners - shall we? Here are some helpful tips:

1) You shouldn't be talking to people like they're bad dogs.

I didn't pee in your bed or poop in your shoe, so don't snap or yell at me for no reason.

2) If you're wearing sunglasses and staring at a group of people, don't assume the person you want to direct your question to knows you're looking at them.

They can't see your eyes! Also, it's cloudy. You're inside. Take off your damn glasses.

3) If you're in a left turn lane, pull into the intersection so more than one person can get through the light. Don't sit on your fat butt and not move after I politely tap my horn to indicate you should be going, and don't continue to sit on your fat butt when I blare my horn at you indicating you just let not one single person, including your dumb butt self, get through the light.

4) If I'm an employee in a store and I tell you the thing you want is out of stock, asking for it in a ruder way and/or insulting me and/or the store and/or just staring at me isn't going to get you the thing you want that you don't really need anyway.

5) Don't pretend you didn't notice the long line of people who are waiting in a line. We all saw you notice it and pretend to ignore it.

If you're thinking of being rude, just don't. Pretend like Emily Post is watching you.

You probably don't want her disapproval. And if you don't give to craps about Emily, pretend someone you would be embarrassed to be rude in front of is watching you. There's no reason to be rude! It's the holidays!

It's time for cookies and scarves and merrymaking! So calm yourselves. For those of you who act like nice people, you're super cool. Now, let's talk about holiday cheer.

I LOVE IT! As a child I loved The Jolly Postman and at Christmas time, The Jolly Christmas Postman.

This is a great book wherein you get to read other people's mail, which is illegal in real life! It's so much fun!

I also really liked these books that came with charm necklace thingies. The original is just called The Magic Locket. But for Christmas I liked reading the wintry one, The Shiny Skates.

And my last Christmas book recommendation that is a book for children is Beany Wakes Up For Christmas.

It's about Scamp Squirrel making a merry Christmas for Beany Bear who's hibernating because it's winter, y'all. It's adorable. You should read it while sitting on this bean bag shaped like a bear.

In conclusion, for Christmas, calm down and have a candy cane and be nice to everybody. Sit on a pretend bear chair and read some kid's books. It'll all be okay. Merry merry. Jolly jolly. Holiday.

xmas magic

2011-12-15T18:58:00.000-08:00

It's Xmas time again, as it comes every year, and this year I really want to celebrate the magic of XMAS.

This is my dog, Hobbes. He really gets into the Xmas spirit. Being in a city wherein it never snows, I need to make my own Xmas spirit. Some things that get me into the Xmas spirit are drinking hot chocolate and pumpkin lattes while on break from work.

Or hot apple cider, if I'm at home.

Any hot and toasty beverage is an easy way to drink in the spirit of Xmas. Before you know, you'll be possessed by Santa Claus himself! You'll be attach your dogs to your wagon and start lashing away with a "HOHOHO!" You'll break into houses! You'll stomp on rooftops. You'll do it all. You'll see.

Another Xmas beverage I enjoy is Coke. I love Coke. More than Pepsi. And who does Xmas better than Coke?

Look at that chubby Santa. He totally forgets what he's doing when he has his Coke. The guy deserves a break! He really gets around for a guy who isn't in the best of physical condition. He's kind of like a giant gnome. Like David the Gnome. Remember him?

I remember one scary episode with some sort of weird Ice Queen who held David captive or something. David is a weird name for a gnome when I think about it. I feel like they should be named after fruits or flowers or vegetables. Like, Butternut Squash. Or Bluebell. Or Banana.

Okay. Hold the phone. What the F. I just read about what happens in the David the Gnome show and in the last episode they die. THEY DIE. This is a children's show. The whole last episode is how it's time for them to die and they go up into the mountains and die. I don't remember that at all. Maybe they didn't air it on Nickelodeon for some crazy reason. I feel as though that would've made an impression on me.

I remember the episode where their fox gets his foot caught in a trap, for example. That was disturbing. But probably not as disturbing as watching a gnome and his gnome wife die. They turn into trees. What. the. Flip. That is awful. I wonder if Maya the Bee also died. Let's check it out.

It's okay - she was never killed. Though her friend - who I think was named Willy - looks basically totally drunk all the time.

But I'm getting off topic. This was about the magic of Xmas. I love the smell of gingerbread and how cute they are but I HATE eating gingerbread. I hate with the fire of a thousand Xmas stars.

And I love presents. I LOVE'EM. Who doesn't, really? But I love giving them, getting them, ripping them open and wrapping them. In fact, I'm gonna go wrap up some special things right now - for some very special people and pets. I have to go do it right now. More on Xmas later. Or gnomes. Or bees. We'll see. We'll all see.

robot makeover time!!

2011-11-18T09:47:00.001-08:00

So the other day I realized I was able to watch Netflix and junk from my Xbox. The other day I also realized you can voice command my Xbox. That's right, ladies and gentlemen, I can shout at my Xbox and it will do my bidding, within reason. It's not about to make me a pumpkin pie or kill that cricket in my bathroom or even tell me Netflix's suggestions for me are actually terrible, but by gum it'll Play Video 3, Fast Forward and Pause to my heart's content and like there's no tomorrow and like it's its job!

This got me thinking about great robots in history. And how they provide some good inspiration for makeovers!!!! And so we begin our journey into great robots and how we can look more like them.

Obviously, number one is going to be Vicki from Small Wonder. This is obvious because it, I mean she, is the first robot that popped into my noodle.

I really liked this robot. But she was also kind of scary. In this photo it looks like her human mom figure is praying for her. Probably because Vicki rarely smiled. If there was one thing I'd program my robot kid to do, it would be smile occasionally for appropriate reasons. But she's a good robot at heart. At circuit board, I mean. I don't think robots have hearts...

FASHION FLASH TIP: If you want to look like Vicki try some of the following looks.

Next up, a less human robot, but still ever-grumpy. That's right, it's BOX. From Logan's Run. You can find him in the sidebar of this blog!

BOX kind of had a one track mind and may seem somewhat evil and prone to trying to kill people, but he's just doing his job! Do you get angry with teachers for trying to make people learn? No! So don't get angry with BOX for being a grumpy robot obsessed with fish, plankton, sea greens and proteins from the sea. So he says 'sea' twice in one sentence - he's a regular robot, not a thesaurusbot!

FASHION FLASH TIP: If you want to look like BOX, try some of the following looks.

Or if you're more into seaweed than robots - go with this little number.

Then we have Inspector Gadget of Inspector Gadget. Okay, so I think he might not have been a robot? He has a niece, right? He's a dude who's also a robot? Whatever. In any event, the Inspector was cool because he had an arch-nemesis and a lot of cool gadgets.

FASHION FLASH TIP: If you want to look like Inspector Gadget, try some of the following looks.

And don't forget some gadgets. Stuff'em in your bag to pull out at a moment's notice. Or have them surgically attached to your feet or your face or whatever.

Robots are the best, whether they're trying to look like humans or embracing their botness. If people tried to be more like robots we would all be happier and more stylish. Or possibly grumpier and more murdery. These three robots have taught me that there's more to robots than just wires and junk. They can have interests - like the ocean or crime or wearing pinafores.

I hope if robots go to college they have a class for them called Robotany. If you're a robot and go to robot college, please let me know if you take Robotany. It's urgent.

why so sad??

2011-11-09T12:54:00.000-08:00

Audrey Hepburn is always crying! What's she got to cry about? She's totally stylish and pretty and has a cool funny accent and handsome dudes are always in love with her. But she's always weeping! Take a poop. By 'poop' I mean 'look.'

Look at poor Audrey. Sitting in a tree crying. Over some dance she can't go to because she's just too dumpy and simple. This totally reminds me of the time I sat in a bush weeping while watching the Macy's Thanksgiving Day Parade. I guess here Audrey cries because it's relatable. Who hasn't sat amongst foliage while tearing up over feeling left out? The answer? Nobody.

There she is crying again. This is more understandable since she has to say good bye forever to Gregory Peck. But it's not like she's sweating it - she gets to go back to be a princess and eating hundred dollar bills stuffed with caviar and whatever it is princesses do. Don't get me wrong, I'd cry over Gregory Peck but if she really wanted to she could just order him to the palace and hire him to count her bacons at breakfast or something. There are ways around saying good bye to Gregory Peck. But I guess I cry when I say good bye to my dog every time I leave the house so...

Audrey is also available in Crying High-Class Callgirl

Lovesickly Crying Model Bride

Depressingly Crying Dysfunctionally Married Wife

Sadly Crying Accused Lesbian Teacher

Hysterically Crying In a Phone Booth b/c A Man is Throwing Matches on You

Quietly Crying at a Train Station

Happily Crying Audrey

And many more! If Audrey ain't crying, it ain't a real picture show. I guess to be more like Audrey I should start crying more.

I already cry a lot, so - just MORE. I can cry over salad, over filling my car with gas, over cold tea and hot pizza, over waiting for the microwave to do its business, over spaghettis with no meatballs, over meatballs that are really squares, over missing my favorite TV programmes, and over other food-related issues - ultimately - I can cry over crying! That's the dream. That's the Audrey Hepburn Dream.

ode to old bags

2011-10-26T20:05:00.000-07:00

Note: By "old bags" I'm referring to cranky old British ladies in movies and TV.

Here's to the cranks and the old sassy crones
Here's to the ladies and their big fancy homes
Here's to their rotten kids and festooned little dogs
Here's to their fat hats and all their ritzy togs
Most of all here's to me for writing this to them
And for how I am a dear, a darling, and a shiny little gem

That was partially an ode to me, but whatever. I really like matriarch type mean ladies from period pieces. They have money, attitude and style. They're usually pretty nasty, which makes them fairly interesting. Though most of the time if you're a jerk in real life I'm not gonna like you. Unless we're being jerks together behind someone else's back. You shouldn't be a turd to someone's face. That's just rude and smelly.

Just look at Dame Judi Dench. First off, in real life she's a dame so she's already basically a champion of life. Then she nails playing the domineering captain of film on several occasions. We have her in The Importance of Being Earnest always trying to shut everyone down and succeeding most of the time. She's a power player.

In Pride and Prejudice she does it again. Just look at the size of her 'do. Look how serious she is. This is who we ladies need to aspire to. She totally doesn't want anyone to have any fun at all in this movie. Once again, she almost succeeds! She never quite manages to totally ruin everyone's good time in film..or does she??

She does. She does it in Shakespeare in Love. She totally ruins Shakespeare's love life, insults people in public, tramps through mud puddles and makes a chick move to a new world that's across an entire ocean for no good reason. Judi has got it going on. Why can't more people be like Judi is in all these movies? Sure, she never really smiles or seems to have that great a time, but how can you be worried about fun and games when you're busy being rich and heavily coiffed??

Next, let us hop on over to Cranford. A miniseries in which Judi appears, but plays not the rotten old bag but the nicest lil lady in town. However, no British town ever went without an old bag of its very own and Cranford is no exception. Just check out Lady Ludlow:

Just kidding. That's a cow in pajamas. I just wanted you all to know you must watch Cranford because there's a cow in pajamas on the show. COW IN PAJAMAS. Here's real Lady Ludlow who is not cow-like at all:

She really is a mean old poop. Her son is an even bigger poop. But as far as mean old poops go, she's pretty cool. Physically, she's not exactly a tough old bird, seeing as how she's pretty spindly and weak most of the time, but she's got a supercool house and totally doesn't want to sell her land to a railway company so they can destroy her feudal empire. She's like a fortress of a lady. Cranford is also home to Mrs. Jamieson and her wonderful dog Giuseppe.

They are both always dressed to the nines and Mrs. Jamieson travels in a chair/hut thing that's carried around by two guys. Kind of wonderful. She's really horrible to her friends - especially when she tells them all that their not good enough to meet her sister-in-law. Poor Giuseppe probably didn't feel that way, but what's he supposed to do? He's busy wearing a dress and a bow in his hair. Mrs. Jamieson gets her comeuppance though. But without ladies like Mrs. Jamieson we wouldn't even know what comeuppance is! So thank you to the Mrs. Jamieson's of the world and your comeuppances. Oh, and hey look it's Tim Curry.

Looking like as chubby a magician grinch as ever.

Then another Dame. The great Dame Maggie Smith. What's with these dames having such informal first names? Shouldn't it be Dame Judith Dench? Dame Magaret Smith? What's next - Dame Tootie Ramsey?

I don't think so, Tootie. Anyway. Maggie Smith. She hits up the old crank role about as much as Judi. We got her in Gosford Park:

Just look how unhappy the chick is doing up her necklace. And look how much like a snippety bird Maggie is. I want some unhappy loser to do up my necklaces for me. And tie my shoes and cut my spaghettis. A gal can dream...dream I do. I do. Mags is also a firecracker in Downton Abbey. Which for a really long time I thought was spelled Downtown Abbey but pronounced Downton. Which is dumb and makes no sense. But that's ME. I'm LAURA. I'm dumb. I make no sense. Just kidding. I'm cool and smart. Like a cow in pajamas.

Look how commanding she is. A powerful lady should always have a powerful hat. Back in the olden days the bigger their head or the thing on it, the more powerful they were.

When I'm a mature and terrifyingly wealthy and iron-fisted lady, I will have the biggest hat you've ever seen. The biggest hat you've ever dreamed. You can count on it. But I won't let you. I won't let you count. At all.

from the doodlebooks - all about eve edition

2011-10-18T18:42:00.000-07:00

I began writing this post many moons ago and promptly forgot about it. I've forgotten most of what happens in All About Eve but I still wanted to share this bit I wrote at the time. You should always share what you learn even if it is very little and poorly remembered. I have italicized edits made to this post since it was written many moons ago, so basically the one sentence that explains why this Notes & Hot Tips posting is different than all other N&HT postings. Enjoy!!

Catalyzed by my post about Netflix, I finally watched All About Eve, which had been sitting in my Queue probably since 2008. Or whenever Queues were born. And I'm so glad I finally watched it. There are so many useful life lessons - if you remember my previous posts about how movies inspire personal living -

Daisies
Bunny Lake is Missing

I've given some really great Notes & Hot Tips. So I'm bringing that format back. Let us begin with this latest incarnation of that:

QUICK HOT TIPS!

NOTE - When confronting a conniving crazy lady such as Eve Harrington, be sure to be drunk at a party. There is no better confrontation than a drunk one.

HOT TIP - On second thought, there is no better confrontation to watch than drunk one where one of the parties involved is Margo Channing. I mean Bette Davis. Oh - hey - check out who the sophisticated spectator is here! Right in between the confronters. It's MM! Way to go, Marilyn Monroe. Way to sit on those stairs and stay classy and passive. Way to try and slut your way into a role in Max Fabien's stage play. Way to be, MM.

i am surprised

2011-10-11T22:18:00.000-07:00

Agatha Christie is not only better at being British than I am, but is also a better surfer. Yes, surfer.

What a cool lady.

Who knew?? I totally stink at surfing. Or I did that one time I tried it. Way to go, Agatha. Way to go.

parties I wish I went to

2011-10-05T11:43:00.000-07:00

I don't like parties a lot of the time. They're filled with bad drinks, no snacks/bad snacks, real dumb bunny type folks and the music is nothing I'm gonna shake my stick about.

Is it too much to ask that a party be superfun and superpretty with supergood music and everyone looks supergreat and is superinteresting? I think not. Here are some parties I wish I could've gone to.

Let's start with Harry Potter. I think any party set up by wizards is bound to be classy and fantastic.

Firstly, check out that decor. It's snowing and there are ice towers on the tables. I bet they aren't even cold. Since it's magic snow and ice. And I doubt those wizards would want to keep their coats on the entire evening.

Check it - floating jack o'lanterns. I never done seen nothing like that at no Hallo'weene party. But I'd like to. I'd really like to. I love all things pumpkin: pumpkins, pumpkin muffins, pumpkin scones, pumpkin pancakes, pumpkin candles. Pumpkinetc.

And you get to dress all weird and everyone's magic. So you're going to have a good time whether you like it or not. You would get some tasty food and the crowd would be all wizardy so they'd probably be interesting, even if they were boring. Plus these drinks basically look like the most delicious fun things ever:

The fashion show from Don't Tell Mom the Babysitter's Dead also looked like a soiree at which to be.

They set up a gosh-darned runway over the pool. And just at look at what they sent down the runway. Check out the musicians in the background and those sassy party lights! Who wouldn't want an invitation to this extravaganza?

Take a look at that crowd! All those ruffled sleeves! That one dude in front who vaguely, very vaguely, looks like Tommy Lee Jones! And check out Sue Ellen's (Christina Applegate for those of you who haven't seen this masterpiece but should go do so now) friends! They're like Troop Beverly Hills girls slightly more grown up. I would love to talk to all these people.

Speaking of Troop Beverly Hills - Phyllis Nefler knows how to throw a party. This is her at a fundraiser. Wilderness Girls walk around offering guests cigars, cigarettes, or cookies. If those aren't three aren't a three-way match made in three-way heaven, well, I guess I don't know my three-ways. She's also wearing my 2nd favorite hat ever to appear in a film. Look how long that feather is! So long. So very long.

In the next photo we see Phyllis at another Wilderness fete. She does one of my all-time favorite party activities, which is fall in a pool. She thinks she's drowning until she realizes it's only about three feet deep.

And just look at her dress. I just want to be where that thing is.

She also throws a party on a yacht. And even though one party on a yacht I went to really stank worse than a hobo's rat-ridden boat, another party I went to on a yacht was pretty neat. And if Phyllis is throwing the party I know I wanna be there.

And finally there's that party in Everyone Says I Love You. Who wouldn't want to go to a party where everyone dresses like Groucho and there are French people singing and dancing??

So if you're gonna throw a party like any of these parties, let me know and I'll show up with a hostess gift or some fruit salad or something.

it's fall!

2011-09-24T13:52:00.000-07:00

Fall is my favorite. Here's why:

Coffee-mate does all my favorite flavors during fall. I'll even drink the ones that are gross just because it's fall. This is the season of Peppermint Mocha (good tasting) and Egg Nog Latte (pretty sure it's gross tasting but I'll keep buying it and trying it and keeping my hope alive!) and Pumpkin Spice (I think this one is good?) and I LOVE it.

Don't let the candy canes on the bottle fool you. This stuff is so good they offer it year round. A brief glance at their site reveals there are recipes! Coffee recipes! If there's one thing I love more than Coffee-mate, it's their brand-authorized recipes. Go try some now. And, Coffee-mate, if you're reading this - stop it with the Egg Nog Latte. Because I won't stop buying it and hoping it will be good. And I can't deal with the constant disappointment. And also send me some liquid Peppermint Mocha, 'cause I bought the powder because that's all I could find and it's not really the same. It's like drinking Dr. Pepper when all I really want is Mr. Pibb.

I love my birthday. My birthday is in October. There is no finer holiday than a birthday. For with a birthday comes ice cream cake.

Note me and my ice cream cake and that big old fat pumpkin. Note my cute dog on the lower right! This is from a couple years ago. Note my short hair. Note my notes. Basically my birthday is the best because I get to dress up and get presents and eat lots of tasty celebratory foods like steak tartar or caviar or other things that rhyme with those things. But most of all this is when I get ice cream cake. Sure, I could go get one right now but that's hardly the same thing.

Ice cream cake is hands down the best cake in the entire world.

Specifically, Baskin-Robbins ice cream cake with chocolate cake and mint chip ice cream.

All the greatest movies/movie scenes are set in fall:

Hocus Pocus

It's The Great Pumpkin, Charlie Brown

the Halloween party in Mean Girls

the Halloween party Legally Blonde where she's like, "When I dress up like a frigid bitch, I try not to look so constipated." That part is totally cool.

And some other stuff.

I love hot drinks and ice cream cake and people in costumes, so obviously this would be the number one season around. I love sweaters and tights and gloves and scarves, too. I love coats and blankets and autumn colors. I love gourds and pies and leaves falling. All the TV shows come back in fall and no matter how disappointing they may be, they're back! Then there are new shows springing up and no matter how bad they are, there they will be! It's a magical, mystical time.

I also loves saying "autumnal." I loves it. Say it: AUTUMNAL. It's so fun. Now, if you'll pardon me, I have a peppermint mocha coffee to enjoy.

which goddess are you!?!?!?

2011-09-14T19:01:00.000-07:00

When I was little I used to take my mom's fancy night gowns, knot the sleeves up and run around the house like a really snazzy ghost. Most of these gowns had equally ridiculous matching robes, sometimes with furry and/or feathery trim. They were all made of silk or velvet or satin or really any fabric you want to stick on your face and just rub all around.

This got me to thinking that I usually don't get to dress like a maniac/Ms. Havisham/escaped god of Olympus/glitter explosion nearly enough. So I am going to start. But I need inspiration. I came up with a few different paths. And I will show and discuss them with you here and right now.

I think you can discover what kind of goddess it is you want to be. Whether you are lady or gentle man I think we all have a shimmery flamboyant goddess sitting inside of us just waiting to take a dump. Here are our options.

Florence Welch

~*Magic*~

I like Florence for many reasons. I love her music, I love how tall she is, how she wears clothes long enough to fit her tall body and how she prances around on stage. Florence is a good choice if you're looking to really shout from the roof tops how magical you are. Not how great a magician you are - though if you're really great at pulling rabbits out of hats that's super cool.

To emulate Florence is to want to throw glitter in peoples' faces. It is to want to run around in the woods and chase animals and be chased by animals in the midst of colorful smoke bombs. It is to want to one day get painted up like a zombie who looks just like the zombie dude from Hocus Pocus.

And, no - not all zombies look alike.

To become Magic like Florence all you gotta do is grow like 5 inches probably, then wear big ole flowy dresses or no pants at all, you'll wanna yell a lot and the most important thing is to learn to dance as though you're possessed. You can choose whatever you want to be possessed by: the moon, kitties, caterpillars or whatever. It would all work. You'll need someone to light you most of the time, so you're always bathed like some otherworldly creature. Or just dye your hair a super bright color so you always glow naturally. Lastly, make sure your skin can blend into your natural habitat so you can disappear and reappear at will.

Bjork

~*Space Visitor*~

Another good goddess option is Bjork. Bjork, like Flo, also loves to belt it out and run around onstage. I like how she channels her outerspace home planet through her voice. I love all her outfits and that time I went to see her in Harlem and almost got squished by a motorcycle gang while standing on the sidewalk. Bjork's a great leader from which to take notes if you don't want to be particularly coherent when you speak but you still want to be adorable.

Space Visitors like Bjork don't really understand our Earth culture, so this one's a little tricky. For example, you'll need to be ready to wear things that aren't necessarily clothes as clothes. Because, remember, you don't know any better.

You might just have to put the pinata you didn't quite finish on top of your head. But don't forget to first drape the shower curtain under it. Otherwise you'll just look silly! You also need to ready your brain for disconnect so you can best express yourself without pesky thinking getting in the way. Just think of everything you wear and do as a way you're trying to communicate with your home planet.

If it doesn't make sense to everyone around you then you're doing your job.

Stevie Nicks

~*Mystic*~

I used to be really indifferent towards Stevie. But then she started to grow on me. She's kind of like a kooky witch who's gonna hang out in your haunted house whether you want her to or not. She's never gonna cut her hair and she only gets around by swooping in slow motion.

I feel to be like Stevie you might need to take up crocheting. Or maybe wear fishing nets as clothing. You'll need to practice spinning around in circles a lot and getting lost in your own movement. Carry around a fan with you to constantly make sure your hair and clothes are in motion. You want to look like you're always descending from heaven, basically.

ABD: ALWAYS BE DESCENDING!

If all else fails just pretend you're a jilted ghost bride and that'll just about take care of it.

Nina Simone

~*Big Red/Sphinx*~

Okay. So I don't know much about Nina Simone. But look at her. Red enough to deem her the goddess of a pack of spicy gum. That's pretty red. Pretty Big Red.

And here she's a sphinx. I guess Nina will remain a mystery for now. A wonderful mystery to be emulated.

That's all. I'll show you which goddess path I've taken when it's been chosen for me.

sad fatties

2011-09-03T19:22:00.000-07:00

John, I didn't like most of your movies but I still wish you were around.

Today I will be discussing Sad Fatties. These are gentlemen actors who happened to be fat and now they're gone so I'm sad about them.

First on my list and the inspiration for this post is John Candy. Wonderful things about John include his last name and his fatness. In all honesty most movies I've seen of his I find pretty boring and my choice for my favorite movie of his is probably not the most popular but here it is -

Spaceballs. In which he played a half man half dog.

Candy shined as a half dog who inexplicably has furry ears yet a face-painted on patch over one eye. I also enjoy that one scene in Planes, Trains and Automobiles where "Those aren't pillows."

And I love Cool Runnings, obviously. And appreciate Candy's hair-do in Little Shop of Horrors.

But overall whenever I tried to get Candied through, say, Who's Harry Crumb? or Uncle Buck or other classic Candy cinema I was left disappointed and confused. I preferred him in small doses, like how he pops up in Home Alone and whatever. But it makes me sad that this fattie is gone.

Next up we have Chris Farley.

He was basically funny all the time. Even though I'm pretty sure Tommy Boy and Black Sheep were the same movie since I can't really remember which things I'm thinking of from those movies belongs in which movie. I think that sentence made sense. Moving on, Farley the Fattie was super energetic and I was constantly surprised by his agility and athleticism as a fattie. I also loved him in Beverly Hills Ninja. Also his mall girl on SNL is a favorite thing of mine I misquote enthusiastically from time to time.

Chris is another fattie who is gone and it's sad.

And then John Belushi. Honestly, I never really got it. I remember watching SNL reruns with my parents where he's doing the Samurai Deli and then that whole cheeseburger thing and being like eh. To be fair that's really all I've seen of his and have yet to be talked into seeing the Blues Brothers and whatnot. But I'm still sad that fattie is gone.

And on a cheerier note, here are some sad fattie ladies who are alive and kicking. They just make me sad because they were supercool like once and then totally weren't living up to their awesome potential after that. Camryn Manheim, yes - her - remember her? She was great in Romy and Michele's High School Reunion. Never again was she so great. So maybe it was actually the movie that was great since I can't even find a photo of Camryn in the film. But whatever.

Romy and Michele's High School Reunion is fantastic.

Then, Rosie O'Donnell.

I thought Rosie was super great in A League of Their Own.

THE END.

i love lucy

2011-08-23T17:17:00.000-07:00

Everyone know I love that Lucy. But here is another cool Lucy.

Lucille Bluth

From her parenting style, to her alcohol choices to her constant surprise at the appearance of Gene Parmesan - she is the best. Sure, she's not about to win any mother of the year cakes and prizes, but who really cares. She is zesty and independent and a fine example of a lady we can aspire to be.

I know she's supposed to be a terrible person, but I pretty much love everything about her. And I don't think it's wrong at all to want to be like her when I grow up. She has super awesome clothes, nice hair, all her teeth are there and she is memorable.

I don't even know anyone who has a mother like her so I thinking becoming her is going to be a difficult journey. I know mothers who have awesome clothes. I know mothers with nice hair. I know mothers with all their teeth. I know mothers who are terrible. I know mothers who insult their children. But Lucille Bluth they are not.

The only problem with her is the 'mother' part. I suppose I'll have to settle for insulting those around me. Because babies are gross and annoying. They're like dogs and cats but not even cute enough to make it worth it. You can't even dress a baby up as people because it already is a people.

Maybe I'll just get a bunch of cats or dogs. That'll solve everything.

to ears! two ears.

2011-08-14T00:16:00.000-07:00

I know I was on butts last time. This time on ears. I was watching a movie with my mother and she noticed how tiny Ryan Gosling's ears were. And they are tiny!

Maybe he's got a big head or a big jaw or something so it makes his ears look small. But I'm pretty sure those suckers are just like little ladybugs on his big sunflower face. It's not a judgment or anything, it's simply a fact. Like how Clark Gable had big ole elephant flappers.

It's just how they're made. And people love them! So the next time you're looking at your big ears or small nose or pointy butt or funky teeth - don't worry! People like all these weird things. These weird things aren't for everyone, but there's probably someone who doesn't think it's totally gross. Someone probably would really like it! Even though it's probably totally weird and gross. But it's awesome because it's you! So be your gross self. No matter how unpleasant.

Watch Clark Gable sing and dance now.

He's like Audrey Hepburn in that he kind of stinks at both singing and dancing, yet we still watch him do it because he's adorable! If there's anything you can learn from celebrities it's that you don't have to be good at things to have people watch you do them. As long as you're like a fat cat falling on top of a birthday cake while you do it - translation: as long as you look delightfully cute you can do whatever you want.

Like Lucy. From I Love Lucy.

She was always stinking up the joint, musically and theatrically speaking, but people loved to watch her perform. The whole series is basically Lucy trying to break into show biz and Ricky not being able to accept the fact that Lucy is simply more dazzling then he is hollering away and taptaptapping on a drum. It's like, Ricky - cool ya jets! Lucy's just a fat cat falling on a birthday cake while you're just a table. A Cuban table! With no fancy cigar on it. Lucy is all cigar. ALL CIGAR. No table.

I don't get why Fred and Ethel could get that, while Ricky couldn't. He was just so jealous. Seriously. It was unreasonable. He could've just made her a big fat star. Didn't he know the show was I Love Lucy? Not I Really Like Ricky. Not even Ricky's Okay. He needed to take a major chill anal suppository. And she was always super supportive of him and he was all like, "Get off the stage! We're moving to the country! Raise these chickens! Don't bring that cheese on the plane!"

Jeez, Ricky. JEEZ.

just butts

2011-08-08T15:06:00.000-07:00

It's no secret I like my butt. I like to refer to it as The Jungle. And, so, it should come as no surprise that when I saw the Butt Bible on ExerciseTV, I was intrigued. I turned it on and, sure enough, I liked it. The host is a crazy Russian lady who says butt a lot. She also tells you yoga is crap. And how pilates is crap. And how crappy everything is, except Butt Bible. And she tells you how she doesn't care if you're uncomfortable and how you should have a sweaty butt. Yes, a sweaty butt.

She basically talks the whole time. Which is normally something I can't stand. But I didn't mind. Mostly because she wasn't whining but was telling us how everything and everyone was dumb and all that mattered was your butt. I can get on board my butt.

Anyway. Speaking of butts:

some nature thoughts and things

2011-07-29T13:07:00.000-07:00

A short time ago I visited the Redwood National Park. There was the constant urge to hum the Jurassic Park theme music. And so I took what little video I had of the enchanting park and set it to the music with which it so longed to be matched.

There is adventure, romance, mystical dancing and some elk. And bushes.

Being in a foggy forest is very refreshing. I highly recommend it. I was like an outdoorswoman who scaled slight elevations, forged very shallow streams and got approximately 5-7 mosquito bites. One right on my forehead! I hiked for miles and saw sea lions on a deserted beach. I ate food cooked in a car.

I ate sushi and saw Harry Potter.

All in all, northern Northern California is way more magical than Northern California. So go look at some big trees and feel GREAT! OUTDOORS!

I felt like this lady - named PANCHO:

Or this next lady, ISABELLA:

Or even Martha Munger Black - The MUNG!

Let's all go eat a bear! ARH!!!!!

salad is not enough

2011-07-22T17:41:00.000-07:00

Hey. Listen. I love vegetables. I loves salad. I loved the play set I had as a kid that was wooden vegetables that were sliced into pieces with velcro on them and it came with a little wooden companion knife so you got to chop your velcro vegetables over and over again.

You have no idea how addictive it is to chop up a wooden carrot only to re-velcro it together again and again. The point is - the other day I had salad for dinner. Just vegetables. It was simply not enough. It was followed up by a small portion of pasta. Which, again, is something I've loved since child hood. I loved Strega Nona and her spaghetti.

I've mentioned my love of Strega Nona on the internet before so that means it's for real. But salad and pasta are not enough. I did have a can of haggis my mother sent me available to eat, but I wasn't quite willing to dig that deep yet. And, yes, I did say a can of haggis. She sent it to me in honor of the royal wedding.

Or she was going to but didn't actually mail it so I just picked it up the last time I went home. Haggis might be enough. Next time - canned haggis. Always and forever - canned haggis.

The original point is: salad is not enough. It doesn't cut it. And I don't trust people who can eat a salad with no meat in it and decide they're full. This makes no sense. Unless, and only in very rare cases, that salad has portabello mushrooms in it, which as everyone knows are the meat of the vegetable world. It just makes no sense how people cannot eat meat to me. I know I just spoke of meats in my last posting, but I have since eaten more meats, but also vegetables. And it just seems to me if you don't eat meat you're missing out. You're like the kid at the pool party who doesn't know how to swim. Or the weird kid at school who isn't allowed to drink soda. Animals are delicoius for a reason. They're also cute for a reason. Like I wouldn't eat the cutest animals. That you're not supposed to eat.

You would never catch me eating a dog or a cat or a panda bear. No, sir - I will not be sitting down to a Christmas feast of roast panda any time soon. But animals wouldn't eat each other if they weren't delicious. And aren't we humans just big naked animals??

Last week- now this isn't for the squeamish so stop here if you don't like really gross stuff, but - Last week I was at the zoo and saw a chimp picking his butt and eating it. For a long time. Far too long to serve any purpose other than pleasing himself. Are humans not the same? Is not war the equivalent of a chimp picking his butt and eating what he finds?? If war is not that then what is it? I ask you.

Anyway. The point is. If you come to dinner with me or lunch and just order some leafy salad with not even one meaty thing it, well, just know I think less of you. And your brain. Not that I eat meat all the time. I'm just saying I don't see the point in not eating it. And I love salad - but salad is not a meal in and of itself! It's just a fact. It's not.

steak & hamburger ladies

2011-06-30T23:54:00.000-07:00

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.

no pretzel dog for me

2011-06-29T17:59:00.000-07:00

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 know...like 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.

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

2011-06-16T18:23:00.000-07:00

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 year...so...DONE.

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.

missing!

2011-06-06T13:13:00.000-07:00

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

and

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.

I used to hate you, but now I don't - oh, wait - I still might

2011-05-29T23:09:00.000-07:00

You know how sometimes you think you hate something, but then you try it again after a long while and you find out it's not true? And then you feel kind of dumb because you've totally been missing out on that thing? And then you feel great because now you can take so much advantage of your newfound love and abuse it until you hate it again?? YEAH.

So. This is about me and donuts, mainly. I know: how can I have hated donuts? What's there to hate? They're basically wheels of cake coated in sugar paste in some form or another. I love cake and sugar and ESPECIALLY paste. So what was the problem?? I'm not exactly sure. I think a lot of the time the glaze would be too sweet and the cake too dry. I would just rather have a piece of cake or a cupcake than a donut. There's no true science to this. The tummyheart wants what it wants.

But I'd always want to want a donut. In high school the Krispy Kreme craze was at an all-time high and I recall numerous occasions where there would be boxes of these readily available. But I was not interested. In fact, I remember taking one and having a bite of it because everyone was so nuts over them and then I threw the rest away. Because it was not good. It was like biting into hot oily cotton candy. And as much as I love cotton candy, I hate things soaked in hot oil more.

And don't get me started on jelly donuts. Those things are still nasty to me. They're like the meanest surprise ever. You're happily eating a cakey, sugary dough ball and then BAM - oozy grackly jelly overwhelms the palate, taking a big jammy dump in your mouth. Maybe people just use crap quality fillings or something. But also they're so totally vulgar. Just look at that photo. It's like a poopy little bottom that can't hold it in and that, my chums, is the worst kind of bottom.

Anyway. Recently I started trying donuts again. A bite here. A bite there. And I wasn't repulsed. I actually almost enjoyed myself. And then I had Top Pot in Seattle. And it was really Top. And then I had a mystery donut in Berkeley. It was really mysterious. And I LOVE donuts now. Sometimes.

However, a person is not a donut. I know, I know. It took me a while to realize this, too. And people can't become donuts, either. I know, I know. I was surprised, too.

And so we come to the end of our tale:

Sometimes there were people who were turds 5 years ago. And they're still turds today. Taking big jammy dumps inside the mouth of life. How exactly does a turd take a big jammy dump? Is a turd not, in fact, a dump already? Can a dump beget more dump? How would that even work? These are the questions that rumble my jungle in the dead of night.

If you can't stand the heat, get out of my toilet.

PS You are correct in assuming that "my jungle" is, in fact, my butt.

nuts

2011-05-25T18:29:00.001-07:00

This is just crazy.

you don't know me

2011-05-24T09:47:00.000-07:00

Is it weird I like to go on Amazon, put things in my cart, not buy them and then get really excited to see if the prices go up or down on things over time?

I don't write down the prices and make a chart or anything, I'm not CRAZY. The wizards at Amazon tell you if you go look in your cart. They say something like "Just so you know THIS got less expensive and THIS got more expensive."

So, to reiterate, I'm not crazy. I just like to watch the prices go up and down. In an online shopping cart.

But I don't like how this internet these days decides it knows what you like and starts recommending things to you. For example, if I chug on over to Amazon right now....(I'm really doing it!)...they somehow have decided I should listen to a Glee soundtrack and read How to Be a Hepburn in a Hilton World. NO. I say. NO.

I've hated Glee ever since a fateful night when I had to listen to 3 episodes of it in a row when all I wanted and was trying to do was to go to sleep. I needed to sleep! And those morons just kept on singing and talking about being pregnant or something. I'm all for singing. I love Hello, Dolly! I LOVE Singing in the Rain! I just think Glee should really leave it to the professionals. And I don't need to read How to Be a Hepburn. I don't live in a Hilton World. I live in a Laura-Is-Great-And-Eats-Red-Vines-For-Breakfast World. And they don't even specify which Hepburn!

But I guess Amazon does know I would want a book about donuts and it knew I lost the first season of Arrested Development so I'd need to replace it. But is it enough????

Maybe.

Anyway. These little things are A-DORABLE-

If I was tiny like a push pin I would sail across a puddle in one of these.

I remember once in high school somebody had a birthday party on a giant boat the size of a ship and I fell asleep on the top deck and when I woke up everybody was gone. And it turned out they were never actually there because it was really a ghost ship!

Just kidding. They were all downstairs.

don't even know his name

2011-05-16T14:49:00.000-07:00

There are some men in one's life who are very important. They are what some call "life-shapers" or, perhaps, "people-molders" - not to be confused with "shape-shifters" or "moldy people." You have no idea how these people affect you, until you forget about them and then, one day, BAM - they're back. And better than ever. But have they been given credit, where it is more than due? I don't think so. Because I realized something. And that something is, I don't even know their real names.

One such great man is Carl Winslow.

Yes, Carl Winslow. The father from Family Matters. A police officer and all-around great dad. Other than that time the boring sister when upstairs and never came back down. That's kind of bad parenting. He was a cop for crying out loud. He probably shouldn't lose a child in his own house. But this is a minuscule blemish on his otherwise stellar career as a dad and officer of the law. He was a problem solver, had a bit of a temper with Urkel and he loved to eat food. Okay, so I don't actually remember if he loved food, but he's pretty rotund so I'm sure he must've indulged in the occasional doughnut dipped in mayonnaise and peanut butter.

You might say to me, "Your interest and knowledge of Carl Winslow seems perfunctory at best. Did you even watch Family Matters?" Did I watch Family Matters?? This is what you ask me?? Of all the questions to ask, that is the one you land on?? Well. I will answer your question with a question for: does the dog I live with eat sticks of butter if they're left out on the countertop?? The answer to that is, YES - if she notices it. And that is how I watched Family Matters - not religiously or even non-religiously, but if it was on while flipping channels and there was nothing better on, I'd probably come back to it. If I noticed it.

Anyway. I'm off point. The point of this post is - last night I watched Die Hard for the first time. And who should appear to me - but Carl Winslow!! He wasn't Carl, of course, but he was! He was a cop! But from LA (my hometown so I liked him better) AND he loved doughnuts!! And I loved and trusted him immediately! Even after he admitted he accidentally shot a kid and even after he ridiculously gunned down the nutty foreigner who managed to survive a hanging by chain and several explosions AND walk straight out of a destroyed building teeming with cops - he was still great!

And I realized: I don't even know his name. His REAL name. So the time has come to unmask the man, the leged - Carl Winslow. He is

Reginald VelJohnson

What a kooky and amazing real name! It sounds more like a fake name. That's pretty cool. And he went to NYU! Like me! We're both pretty cool, I guess.

Reginald is another great supporting men in the stable of supporting men. You know, he's not the Urkel - but he's the fat Urkel. You know? I know. I KNOW. He's not the jewel in the crown, but he's like the little plastic combs on the crown that get stuck in your hair that hurt you. But they're necessary and help you hold that crown on - and you forget they're there. Until you try to stop being a princess, then they stab at your head, reminding you how supportive they were. Like Carl. I mean Reginald.

Reggie, my hat is off to you, sir. It's off and thrown up in the air. Because it's graduation time. Today, I know your name. I. Know. Your. Name.

Sometimes I feel like Albert Brooks.

2011-05-10T19:56:00.000-07:00

Soooo, when you meet people and talk to people about stuff you do, I find most people are just interested in themselves and how you can best serve them. This is not necessarily bad and can lead to good things - since when two people are trying to best help themselves out they tend to accidentally work hard and do cool stuff for other people.

However, there are instances when you come against those who do nothing related to what you're doing and don't really understand what you're doing and you two have to find some sort of common ground upon which to stand. It's as though you are two people stuck on a life raft in the middle of the ocean and if you don't find something to prattle about, it's going to be a very long silent and/or awkward wait until one of you dies and the other one can finally just eat you.

Sometimes I find if I tell people I write and they don't write and, in fact, don't engage in some sort of creative field at all, they just don't understand. And they think their suggestions are helpful. They think I'm clearly doing something wrong since they haven't heard of me in a larger capacity and they would be more successful than I was if they were doing what I was doing. Or they think their ideas are so great but they just don't have the time!! Or maybe they're making conversation and don't really care. Anyway you look at it, they stink.

They suggest I write a movie about a museum - because, you know, Night at the Museum was so popular. Or they suggest I write a book about their zany relationships because you just wouldn't believe it!! Or they suggest I do something with singing and dancing. Or ask if I like and/or have I seen Judd Apatow movies - because those are really successful, so can't I just do one of those. Or do I like and/or read whatever bestseller is at the top of the NY Times Bestseller List - cause those are fantastic and if I wrote one they would SO read it! Or they say I can write about whatever, since everything's been done.

Sometimes, this all makes me feel like Albert Brooks.

Sometimes I feel like Albert Brooks in Mother, except even worse since I don't even publish third and/or fourth rate science fiction books.

Or sometimes I feel like Albert Brooks in The Muse, except I don't even have an agent to tell me I've lost my edge or enough money to put up mentally ill Sharon Stone in the Four Seasons for even one day.

And sometimes I even feel like Albert Brooks in Broadcast News. Because at times I too sweat profusely.

Albert and I share similar heritage, we both have curly hair, we both wear glasses at times, we both write...we're basically like twinsies. So I can relate to Albert's plight as a writer/newsroom worker. We're just doing what we do as best we can and people just don't understand! Sometimes we both like being whiny and complainy! Sometimes we just need to work things out our own way! Sometimes we both just need to appreciate our mothers, find some inspiration and concentrate on our OWN business instead of someone else's! We're human! So sue us! Skin us alive and call us luggage! Put that in our back pockets and smoke it!

If you don't have anything helpful to say or you just want to make conversation, why not at least talk about something completely unrelated to anything. We don't have to pretend we can meet in the middle. Some people can't and some people can, and we needn't force anything. We can still have perfectly acceptable conversations that don't have to be all about you and/or me personally. We have opinions! We aren't just things like computers who don't have emotions! We can emote on a number of topics! A couple good topics of conversation when one is stuck -

1) Would you have rather spent a week with the Flintstones or the Jetsons?
2) Would you rather rob houses or graves?

All's I'm sayings, is I maybe don't need/want peoples' suggestions. I don't go up to you at your weird finance job or crazy doctor job or nutty plumbing job and say - "YO! You should totally tell people to buy stock in apples. Not Apple products - just APPLES. They're sweet, they're healthy and everybody eats them. Right?!?!" Or, "HEY! You better take out the whole uterus as long as you're delivering that baby. That's probably just easier." Or even, "WHOA! You know what people love about toilets? When they flush! You should get this one to flush - people LOVE that. Why can't you do that?"

Let's just be ourselves. We all have interests in things that aren't us. And we can talk about them and everything and it will be okay. We can realize we have nothing in common and not force ourselves to pretend we understand the other person. In fact, our not understanding each other could make for a better interaction.

We can all have a good time without needing to rub our own poop all over the cell walls - you know? Sometimes, you keep your poop to yourself. Maybe people don't need your poop. They need something else.

I just think it's possible to share oneself without punching someone else in the babymaker at the same time.

That's all.

from the doodlebooks - video edition

2011-05-01T21:23:00.000-07:00

So here was another half-forgotten piece I had worked on with Hobbes. Intended as a sequel to last year's Filthy Beast, in which I reimagined a scene between Erica Kane (Susan Lucci) and a bear (a bear) as a scene between me (Laura) and my dog (Hobbes).

The film was never finished, but I cobbled together what was shot to bring you here and now -

Filthy Beast: The Return

weeeeehoooooo

2011-04-30T01:10:00.000-07:00

It's the I-Can't-Believe-I-Just-Wrote-a-Whole-Post-on-Greg-Kinnear Post

2011-04-27T18:31:00.000-07:00

Greg Kinnear. He recently has been in my thoughts. And those thoughts have been, he's a very strange bird. A bird who isn't actually a bird at all. But can go from a hit movie to another and then to real stinkbombs without really ever having to take the blame or credit for anything. It's kind of amazing.

I first personally became aware of him in a little movie that nobody really knows about - called As Good As it Gets. Greg played back up and supporting fiddles and tambourines to tubbybear Jack Nicholson and shebeast Helen Hunt.

Greg put in a solid effort, but I know I would be quicker to talk about Verdell the dog than Greg Kinnear if I was talking about that movie. Indeed, a quick "Google" of Verdell brings about endless photos and pages dedicated to that wily little dog. But I can't even remember Greg Kinnear's character's name. Not that I can remember anyone else's either - but I really couldn't remember his name if I tried.

He was even nominated for an Oscar for that movie, apparently, for poop's sake! Yet I would be quicker to talk about the fact that the voice of Lisa Simpson plays Greg Kinnear's assistant in that movie than I would to talk about Greg at all. So, he really can't get too much of the credit for my enjoyment of that film. Sure, some might say Jack's overwhelming starpower is to blame - but if all someone has to do to steal some of his attention is be a little boy who wears amazing sweaters -

I'd say Greg fell a touch short.

Greg also appeared in Sabrina. Again, not playing a leading role. And obviously unable to take any credit for any of my enjoyment when my favorite man in the world is present. Wearing silly glasses and bow ties no less!

Greg's not really a leading man type, I suppose. He appears in You've Got Mail. A non-creepy Tom Hanks/Meg Ryan movie. I could never get on board with Sleepless in Seattle. I don't even think I've ever seen the whole thing, but the whole idea just creeps me the farts out. It seems like a scary stalker movie where a murder should've happened to make it watchable. I don't get the hoo ha. But You've Got Mail?? Well, there's a hoo ha worth throwing a ticker tape parade for. But Greg, once again, shines but cannot take credit. He tries to do the whole silly glasses and hobby equivalent of a bow tie (collecting typewriters) but doesn't measure up in either department.

But at the end of the day, he's doing his supporting job - making wonderful movies not less wonderful with his acting and appearance. He fits in nicely, like a cute little vase or a doorstop.

Then Greg made it to modern times with another hit, in which he almost had a leading role.

But here he never stood a chance. Because of this:

So I would think of that before saying, "WOOWEE check out Greg Kinnear's awesome performance!" He does lots of quality work in quality movies. But he also does the aforementioned Stinkbombs.

These include appearances such as The Last Song, Bad News Bears, Stuck On You, Someone Like You, and Flash of Genius. Flash of Genius is a a movie about windshield wipers. Yup. Windshield wipers. He was probably pretty good in it. He was probably pretty good in all these suckbutt movies. And the best part is that I really only think the movies were awful, not Greg! Like, The Last Song was totally Miley Cyrus' fault. And the fact that it existed. But I can't even really blame Greg for making the awful decision to do it. Because he's just doing his job! Trying to prop up stinkbag movies with his wonderful support.

I can blame Miley for everything, since trying to find a photo of her yielded the fact that she tweeted a photo of her tampons. To quote Valerie Cherish,

"I don't wanna see that!" I blame myself for innocently trying to visually accent my words. I should've known better if Miley was involved.

Anyway. Greg Kinnear - I can't blame you and I can't give you any credit. Especially not lately. But goshblarnit, I think I almost like you. So, here's to you -

Let Paula ride. Let all the Paulas ride. We thank you.

from the doodlebooks - definition

2011-04-20T13:13:00.000-07:00

"from the doodlebooks" will be posts I wrote but never published for sometimes obvious reasons. Until now. This is the first -

from the doodlebooks

definition

sleep diarrhea - 1: not what you would think. but. rather. when you start sleeping and you wake up and you're so sleepy that you want to keep sleeping even though you've already slept 8 hours so instead of ripping yourself awake you slip back into sleep for even more hours. then you wake up a couple hours later really hot and unhappy and maybe with a headache, so even though you should definitely get up, you decide more sleep would make you happier so you fall in even more deeply. not fall in love, but asleep. so you wake up an hour later, but this time you're really cold and you manage to be able to open one eye, but not the smooshed one you were sleeping on that now has a pillow line across through it. there's a cold puddle on the pillowside of your face where you drooled and on the other corner of your mouth there's some sort of horrible crust. again, this is too hard to deal with so you go back asleep. you wake up another hour later because there is loud music or television coming from another room or loud horrible people outside somewhere. this makes you mad so you decide to fall even harder asleep in anger. you wake up later, but it's starting to get dark but you're also really hungry. you weigh the idea of eating and of just going to sleep and waking up in the morning starving. the weight presses on you so you go to more sleeps. you wake up in the middle of the night, which is actually only ten o'clock. and you feel horrible. 2 : when you diarrhea when you're sleeping

netflix, i hardly know ye

2011-04-17T18:19:00.000-07:00

Netflix. Is kind of a devil. It is red and pointy. I know I previously extrapolated on why facebook Is the devil but I believe there can be more than one devil. Who doesn't?? How else do we account for things like Apples to Apples, "chick lit," the phrase "chick lit," and the continuing careers of Matthew McConaughey and Kate Hudson?

But Netflix is what we're talking about here and today. To reiterate - it's a kind of devil. I feel like it is sticking me with a trident sometimes. Or whatever. A pitchfork is what I meant. I could erase saying trident but I'm an honest person. And so I can honestly say that right after writing trident I knew it was wrong. Because I immediately thought of Ariel's father.

Anyway. So. I love movies and watching them. I want to watch all sorts of different movies starring all sorts of different people sometimes acting, sometimes singing, sometimes dancing, sometimes animated, sometimes. And so Netflix seems like it should be one of the best things in the world. And it is. You can watch a ton of movies whenever you feel like it right on your computer. It's like the future is here or something...it's pretty darn tootin' cool.

BUT.

Sometimes. I cannot make a decision to save my life. Instant Watch ends up taking up all my time. But most of that, sadly, is not spent watching movies. It is perusing the hundreds of options available trying to decide what to watch. I know you may be thinking this is why there is a Queue. It has a numbered order that lets you set up what movie you want to watch and when. This was true in the days when Netflix only mailed me my movies. Alas and joyous raptures, that day is gone. Now the Queue simply a means for me to stick every movie I might ever possibly maybe want to watch in a place so I don't forget about it.

Then I feel like watching a movie and I have the time. So what do I do? I go to my little Queue. Which is enormous. And start trying to pick something to watch. Do I want comedy? Tragedy? Musical? Animation? Documentary? Mockumentary? Comedrama? Mockutragimusimation? I know - I do go on! Some of those aren't even genres. But, oh wait! They probably are in Netflix. Because if Classic Witty Spy Movies and Cerebral Romantic Dramas can be a things, I think anything can be a thing. Anyway.

I start flipping from movie to movie, thinking I need to watch that movie right now! But I want to watch something sad - but wait, that television show I've seen a thousand times is so funny! OH - but that movie is famous and I've told people I've seen so I should probably watch it. OOH - NO - this movie is supposed to be just divine - decision made. WAIT - it has subtitles and I'm sleepy. This movie could be the one - it has a young Angela Lansbury in it! YES. Wait - it sounds scary and I don't want to be scared at night time. OMGZ - New movies to watch instantly - I have to see what's new before I make any decisions!!!! NO - STOP IT! I will watch everything in my Queue in order. Because I really should watch Auntie Mame, it's only been at the top for 18 months...

It's like letting a kid in the candy store and saying - you're going to get to eat all of this at some point for a very low price - now choose what candy you want to eat RIGHT NOW. And that would be way easier, since the obvious answer would be a fistful of Charms lollipops and then a Butterfinger. Then a Crunchie bar and next some Red Vines. Then a Nutrageous and on to some Starburst.

The point of this whole ramble is that eating candy is a buttload of a lot more easy than watching movies. And both activities have equally challenging processes of selection. I hope you've all learned something here today.

for hobbes

2011-04-08T00:23:00.000-07:00

I MISS MY DOG! He is far away in Los Angeles. Here are some of our moments. Because I know you're all very interested.

One of his tear ducts is stuck outside of his eyeball.

I think he is still adorable!

He is very fat.

He likes to go to the bathroom indoors.

He loves bananas and avocados and doing the splits.

He hates being in the pool but loves being sprayed with a hose. But only if it is for play. Not if it is for cleaning him.

OH, HOBBES! If only you could use the internet and see you now.

Let's all take a moment to remember one of our finer moments together

it's (not) okay

2011-04-07T18:02:00.000-07:00

Sometimes I get so mad. I could just slap Sally Draper.

So, after reading Almie's post it got me to thinking of whether I apologize all the time. And then I got sleepy and found some sweet corn cakes so the thinking about it kind of escaped me. But other thinking sprang to mind! I fall victim to another different yet similar pratfall - the "It's okay" or "No problem" or "Don't worry about it" or other similar phrasings.

This is perhaps equally as bad as apologizing. As it is utilized when something has been done that is not okay or is a problem or is something people should worry about. Be it a large problem or a small, I tend to forgive and excuse people's moronic actions. Which is funny, because I will then sit on the unhappiness that was caused by it and let it fester OR, perhaps worse, will let people think what they're doing is okay and they get to feel fine about being inconsiderate turdlings.

For a small instance - I go into a nail place today without an appointment and they claim they can paint my nails right away. I sit down and the lady then tells me it'll be about 5 minutes. Five minutes pass and I ask what the deal is and they say it will just be a little longer. Fifteen minutes later I sit there, pretending to have things to look at on my phone. And as fascinating as it is for me to read about Icelandic hot dogs or pylsurs - and I'm not being sarcastic here because I really love hot dogs -

that's not what I go to a nail place for. Reading about the world's hot dogs is an activity for a library or for while sitting on the toilet. Not for a nail salon. No, sir. So anyway.

The nail lady comes over to me with the basket of things they use to widdle away at and shine up the keratin on my phalanges. And she says, "I'm sorry." And I say, "It's okay." And it's not okay! I sat for 15-20 minutes like a boob! Like a big old boob! Like a droopy, low-hanging, crepey-textured boob! I have things to do and can't just sit around all day waiting for people to do their jobs! But I say it's okay because otherwise I just have to nod or something? Which seems totally rude somehow.

Perhaps I am an "I'm sorry"-enabler. People would stop apologizing for trivial things if other people stopped excusing them. Like if that lady had just plopped her big ole butt down and said, "LET'S DO THIS!" I would have said, "FINE." Or if she hadn't apologized I wouldn't have had to pretend I wasn't irritated. I know I don't have to say, "It's okay" but then what does one do??

I'm sorry for keeping you waiting.

You should be sorry! Now wash and pretty my feet!

That's probably not an alright thing to say. Maybe something more like

I'm sorry I lied and made you wait 20 minutes.

I'm sorry you weren't sorry 20 minutes ago! Now PUMICE MY HEELS!

That somehow seems wrong to...what's a girl to do? Because I'm a classy lady. And I can't just snap at people? Or say something like -

I'm sorry your feet have been pruning in lukewarm water for 15 minutes because we told you to stick them in there and you thought we'd actually do our job when we told you we would.

I appreciate your apology but you've totally ruined my ~*experience*~ but I'm too nice to just leave and/or give you a poopy tip for being a jerk liar.

So in that way, it is similar to an "I'm sorry" as it is possibly some sort of programmed lady-response. Like we're supposed to be agreeable and compromising and kind about all sorts of crap. And that was just my response in a low-stakes nail situation!

I say "It's okay" to all kinds of apologies. Like when people are a half hour late to meet me places or when a date "forgot" his credit card or when people say they'll do things that are important and then they don't. And there is more!

And none of these were inconsequential. They were consequential! But I guess there's nothing else to do but say it's okay, is there? I mean, am I gonna stay all angry and grudge-holding even if I don't say it's okay? If I could come up with something else that would allow me to express and somehow release my anger... perhaps, "It's not okay, but if you bought me a cookie or baked me a cake in the image of myself that would start to make up for it." Or, "That's fine that you're sorry but it's still a problem. Invent a time machine and un-do you being so dumb. Or just give me five bucks."

Or. Perhaps:

"It's not okay, it is a problem and you should continue to worry about being rude. You stink worse than a dirty dog that stinks of chicken soup and Doritos sitting in an old boot. And you should know, that old boot was dredged from the LA River and then sat in a hot stew of old Indian food and rancid eggs for two weeks before being gummily mouthed by a mean hobo and then passed into the hands of a horribly sticky-handed child. And I hate you."

Sometimes I just get mad. And I stay mad. I stay so mad I could just stuff Sally Draper in my plastic dry-cleaning bag.

I think that's okay.

nancy meyers - god amongst us

2011-03-22T21:30:00.000-07:00

This post is all about the woman - the legend - the filmmaker - Nancy Meyers. When I first thought about writing this post, I thought I would begin with the first film of hers I was exposed to - The Parent Trap.

The Parent Trap starring Lindsay Lohan, in a time when she didn't look at least twice her age and kind of like

Not that Lindsay should be as fresh as she was at 11 but this is a bit ridiculous.

Anyway. It turns out Nancy effects on my life were even more far-reaching than I knew. She wrote one of my favorite all time films - of all time it will stand the tests of it. It's a classic - a classic that never goes out of style. Yes, she wrote-

Jumpin' Jack Flash is marvelous. And I think the only movie Nancy Meyers is involved in that features a black person! And Whoopi is dynamic - she is a computer wiz and she's a tough cookie and she outwits and escapes evil murderous henchman AND she sneaks into a party as a Diana Ross impersonator! Her dress almost gets sucked off by a shredding machine but she BESTS it. And she manages to get a date by the end of the movie.

And also Private Bejamin and although I love Goldie, for some reason I've never been able to sit through that whole movie. And then the hits kept coming with Father of the Bride, parts 1 AND 2! Finally she makes The Parent Trap - and even though I only really really enjoy the part at summer camp it is all around excellent. Nancy Meyers lets everybody know that older people have lives!

Love is for older people, too! For very rich and successful older white people! They can have it all! Finally! And I enjoy watching them do all this! In their wonderful houses. Their creamily interiored enormously exteriored crazy nutbutt houses.

Everything is fresh and young and new! Even when it is older and mature.

In other words, Lindsay will never make it into another Nancy Meyers movie, as she is neither fresh nor young. As young people are required to be fresh in Nancy Meyers movies. She is no longer wholesome and/or like apple pie. You have to be practically glowing! These kids take showers everyday and change all their clothes. They brush their straight hair and put on their concealer. Even if they're a boy - in fact, ESPECIALLY if they're a boy.

Look at these healthy blonde children/young adults. They never fight, are all super close and they wear only muted colors! They never spill their food and their hair is all supersoft and they do awesome things like get married and graduate from college. And drive hybrids! Basically they'd be like your best friend from college who you marry and then you get to be the privileged person to comb their supersoft hair while they cart you around in their silvery Prius of the future.

Anytoots - in Nancy Meyers world, as a mature person with unlimited resources you also get a neat job! Like being a successful baker with a bakery

Or perhaps being a super successful writer with produced plays! Or being a super successful film editor! Or a maybe a super successful fashion designer! Basically, once you are mature and have been married or in a relationship with someone else who is also successful in their career, you are automatically living in a mansion decorated in beige tones. Your wardrobe also becomes drained of most color and pattern.

And I'm no liar - so I'm gonna just say I really really enjoy watching these movies that aren't about war or issues or real problems of any kind and are just about fancy ladies with fancy problems living in fancy houses in their fancy clothes! There's nothing wrong with that. Sometimes you just want to stuff your fat face with fancy cakes while you wear your fancy pants and have your fancy butler buttle you up some more cake.

FANCY THAT.

Martha, you're no good

2011-03-15T14:35:00.000-07:00

Martha, Martha, Martha.

MODEL

MOTHER

PRISONER

Martha's been through a lot. She's had a life full of ups and downs and costumes and catering. And jail cells. So, I thought, maybe Martha might have some advice.

I just read Martha's book The Martha Rules. And I have to say, it was weaker than an American-made cup of tea! I can't get on board. Martha, you teach some really great things to a lot of people. You're a cool lady when you do what you do best. But I don't think that's writing a book giving people tips on how to be a success. Because I think the truth is...is that you're scared of another success becoming a Martha-sized Success Monster. So you wouldn't give the people your true secrets of success.

Martha basically tells the tale of her humble beginnings as a high fashion model, then progresses to make mention of working in finance and being married to some law wizard and then finally manages to open her own little catering company that explodes into what we now know today as Martha's empire.

Martha doesn't exactly want you to follow your dreams. Martha wants you to think about your dreams for a good long stink because they might not be your real dreams, make sure you are super-prepared and have business plans and branding and etcetera all nailed down, make sure you're financially able to do what you want to do and then to do it carefully and slow as a turtle crawling through peanut butter inside a tunnel slightly too small for a turtle to fit through. She advocates using caution and responsibility. Which is all well and good for her and some people.

But you could do all that for years and still not really be quite sure. Altogether, she wasn't very inspiring. It's like when you're superexcited about something you're doing and you tell your friend and she's all like, "That's awesome, I guess but aren't you usually really unfocused and your pennybag is empty of pennies and wasn't your last 'dream' just eating the biggest brownie you could find in one sitting without any milk or water or anything and that dream's kinda dumb and also you're a grade-A jollywoggler and just stop. Just stop it."

You know what I did like?

When Martha met Oprah on Oprah's show.

Look how unhappy they both are. And how their outfits are so different.

I remember Martha being testy about Oprah not visiting her in prison and how Martha said something like, "Everyone visited me - it just warmed my heart and kept me going to see how many people cared. But you didn't visit Oprah. HAHAHAHAHA." And then Oprah was all like, "I sent a letter." Or something and Martha was all testickly about it. And Martha's like, "Rosie O'Donnell visited me."

And Oprah's like, "I'm not Rosie O'Donnell. I don't spend all my time pickin' my nose and misspelling and misgrammaring answers to people on a website cause I have things to do." And Martha's all like, "I guess you must've been really busy." And Oprah's all like,

And Gwyneth Paltrow's all like

And Paula Abdul was all like

Paula Abdul - Hey Paula by UnrealityTV

And Paula Deen was all like

Also, when Martha went on Oprah it was totally like

I'll let you decide who's who.

But I know.

I know.

Know.

I watch children's television

2011-03-03T21:33:00.000-08:00

Firstly, I watch children's television. Not a television belonging to childrens. But television programmed for them. This included watching the Disney Channel beyond when I should have watched it.

It was brought to my attention that the powers that be might be resurrecting Lizzie McGuire.

I do not know how to feel about this. On the one hand, at the time when it was on the air, that show was magical. The worst and most embarrassing thing that I couldn't not watch. I was far too old to be watching this show, yet I could not look away. Luckily, my dear friend Molly joined me in my fascination - both of us going so far as to see the film version of the show in theatres. And forcing a third friend to come with us. It was horrible. And I'm sorry now for telling everybody Molly and I loved Lizzie. It's kind of like your friend getting diarrhea in Barnes and Noble and then you laugh at her and then you tell everyone about it.

Except for we both had diarrhea. BRAIN DIARRHEA. I'm going to stop saying diarrhea now.

But, you know - Lizzie McGuire tackled tough issues. Like when Lizzie's friend Miranda decided she was too fat

and was anorexic for a day until she fainted.

And then they totally made a music video and Miranda realized she looked fantastic and felt better and everything was totally cool.

It was a very tough day for her. Or when Lizzie needed to meet Aaron Carter. She just had to - and when the going got tough with security guards chasing her for about a minute - she got tougher. She met Aaron Carter and kissed him and appeared in his Christmas music video.

She did it. Lizzie is an inspiration. She even had a Jewish friend! I could relate to having Jewish friends. And who could forget her Jewish friend's Bar Mitzvah??? Not me, that's for sure. I think we all learned a lot about different cultures that day.

And oh the lessons I learned when Lizzie and her friends lied to their parents and went to a party that was unchaperoned. It got so CRAZY. And Haylie Beastface Duff got to guest star!

This brings me to an important point - if you are fairly unappealing and have a stinkbutt career and you have a sibling who is better looking than you (even if only by comparison) and more successful than you - grab onto that flamingo and ride it to the stars! Haylie is always trying to grab onto Hilary's thunder. Then she tries to shake that thunder around and doesn't even bother telling Hilary important stuff like that time she got those giant teeth put in and looked like a gaping old horseface. Haylie could've said, "Hey! Give that horse back his teeth!" But she didn't. She didn't.

Haylie might've seen that as her chance. But Hilary recovered and got newer, better, shorter teeth. But Haylie's not sweating it. She does great stuff on her own. She really does. Her own thing. And is good. At it...

Anyway. When that doesn't work Haylie knows what to do. Demand to sing songs together and appear in feature films together - and, yes, I have seen the Duff sisters starring together in movies. And I'm not ashamed to admit it. I've seen Hilary and Haylie Duff in Material Girls. Well. I'm slightly ashamed, but I'm not deleting it am I? Know why?? Because I'm honest!

ABBH! Always be being honest!

Then people will trust you. And probably admitting you watched Material Girls is better than admitting you watched and really enjoyed Love & Other Drugs. Or Price of Persia: The Sands of Time. Or Bubble Boy. Basically most of Jake Gyllenhaal's movies. Except October Sky. Or City Slickers. Though that is truly Billy Crystal's movie. No. NO WAIT.

It's Jack's.

brief thoughts on terrifying cartoons

2011-02-24T12:17:00.000-08:00

I was very scared of Who Framed Roger Rabbit as a child. I haven't seen it since. But I remember something really horrific with acid and/or shoes. Which, oHMYSTARs, might account for why I'm not wild about shoes. Wow. Breakthroughs. On the internet. It happens. It can be a personal Oprah.

But Roger Rabbit was also one peculiar rabbit and creeped me out slightly if I recall. He was really deranged-seeming and maybe had a lisp or something? I can't even bring myself to get video of it for fear of the nightmares.

Another fearful experience? Donald Duck in, what I have come to learn, is Mathmagic Land.

AND OH MY GOD. Maybe that's why math and I do not agree. Internet. You should get a book deal. But - this movie had some pretty great stuff in it - so I did watch it a lot. But there is a scary pencil that reminds me of a bird or a bug. And I remember Donald having some weird freak out, too...Math is a dark place. But also I'm pretty sure this movie was stuffed full of neat crud. I remember him playing pool. And things with shapes. This brings me back to my C- in Math Patterns in Nature class. Yes, indeed, math patterns in nature. I still have a below average grasp of what exactly that means.

A slightly more strange one is the creepy as butts flowers from Alice in Wonderland.

They just have mean, weird faces. And I think they all sing together. And I remember there were also some nasty flowers who I want to say were doing something like pinching her. But maybe not. That seems nuts. Flowers can't pinch. But they sure can sing!

In any event, any plant coming to life is sure as bells going to be scary. Just imagine if a field of grass came to life. I mean, they're not gonna hurt you or anything, on account of being stuck to the ground - but still - millions and billions of tiny green armless creeps...that would probably be pretty foul.

The Troublefuss with Lady Bundles, Part 2

2011-02-15T02:31:00.000-08:00

The second, in a series. Have a whale of a time.

ANIMAL!!

2011-02-13T22:58:00.001-08:00

Technical problems delay the release of The Troublefuss with Lady Bundles, Part 2. Until then - enjoy this special edition of

CUTE ANIMAL REPORT!

This monkey is CRAZY CUTE OH MY STARS!

that is all.

clearly candianly

2011-02-12T00:17:00.000-08:00

I apologize dearly and Clearly Canadian.

Remember Clearly Candian? I do. On account of drinking loads of it once upon a time.

I've been traveling. And tomorrow will offer you my expert advice in the form of travel tips. Until then - I briefly discuss the following portion of a sentence I read that was part of a larger piece of writing -

"a man who (reluctantly) ate his own cousin"

Why in the blue blazes do they need to mention it was reluctantly? And stuffed inside of parentheses, no less. That's crazy for a possibly a couple of reasons.

ONE

OBVIOUSLY the man didn't want to eat his cousin. And that man might read that sentence and be offended thinking people might read that he ate his cousin and think it was because he wanted to. That the man did it willingly and happily but the wise and sophisticated writer would not and passes judgment in a snooty parenthetical. There are many valid reasons for the man to take offense.

Maybe he thinks he OBVIOUSLY wouldn't want to eat his cousin because he's gross and gamey. And maybe his cousin wasn't the slightest bit tasty-looking. All fat and no muscle. Maybe his cousin was a schlubby chubbo from uggo town. A man he wouldn't have ever eaten, even if you paid him. Think of the most unpleasant person you know. Now imagine someone has told everyone you ate him. OBVIOUSLY that would be repugnant - I mean, you wouldn't want to eat some hunchback pig with a tumor on its stomach that has its own teeth and hair. And you OBVIOUSLY wouldn't want people to think you would do such a thing. You would want a parenthetical that accurately describes the great desperation you were in to do such a thing. You wouldn't want some dumb parenthetical that might lead people to assume the worst about you.

TWO

It is clearly Canadianly unnecessary to mention someone's reluctance towards eating people. Especially cousins. It is simply assumed and known as a fact.

THREE

We shouldn't make funnies about cannibalism. Unless it is in an Alvin and the Chipmunks movie in which the 'munks race around the world unknowingly smuggling diamonds and crud. And also unless it involves a musical number.

But. Wait. I guess the tribal humans were really eating giant chipmunks so it doesn't count as cannibalism. Except. Well. They probably usually sacrificed people, when not having access to giant juicy chipmunks who need glasses and other human-like accoutrement. So, it does count. It. Counts.

The Troublefuss with Lady Bundles

2011-01-24T18:32:00.000-08:00

The beginning of my play, born of physical compromise. Enjoy.

wha happen!?!?!

2011-01-24T13:25:00.000-08:00

Hello, Children. I recently injured my back and have been bedridden like some sort of large hippo who lives in a house and has a bed and also he hurt his back. I'm sure you all know I'm generally the picture of perfect health, so this is a crushing blow to my nearly invincible person.

I feel like Jimmy Stewart in Rear Window. Or I wish I felt like him. Because at least then I'd have a cool pair of binoculars, a chair with wheels, and some glamorous movie star looking after me. As a side note, how undignified is it that those certain wheelchairs are called scooters? I mean, I know they scoot you around but I feel it isn't a very sophisticated name. Like imagine if FDR had been in a scooter instead of a wheelchair. Just look at his chair.

That is one classy chair with wheels. It's amazing. Now picture FDR straddling one of those supermarket scooters with the basket in the front of it. Now picture Eleanor Roosevelt sitting in the basket. Now imagine Eleanor making out with a big pile of ladies. And FDR watching. I think I have painted you quite the historically accurate picture here.

I digress.

Back to me and Jimmy Stewart. I'd probably be more like Bart Simpson doing the Jimmy Stewart thing.

I would definitely write a play. I haven't yet. Since this is the first time I've been able to sit up and type, of course the best thing to do would be to write a blog entry instead of doing constructive writing. But if Bart could write a play while physically compromised, I don't see why I can't.

(Link)

In fact, I will write a play. I'll be back shortly to do a dramatic reading for you all.

STAY TUNED.

pockets

2011-01-13T15:12:00.000-08:00

Today I would like to celebrate my love for pockets.

Pockets in pants. Timeless and classic. Where else would men and women put their hands? Not mention the THINGS in their hands??

Dresses with pockets. This can save hundreds of celebrities from a horrific red carpet pose. If you don't know how to stand on a carpet, you probably shouldn't be famous.

Why would Beyonce do this? She looks like a drunk toothbrush. And, no, I'm not sure what that means but it's how I feel. So it will be.

And I know Renee is just a big stain on a carpet in the first place, but a Wonder Woman pose isn't doing her mannish upper body any favors.

I don't even know. She's trying to be cute? But she could also be farting. So powerfully it is starting to propel her off the ground. It's not a good look.

So if you don't know what to do? Just jam your hands in your pockets!

Does it look amazing? NO! Does it look smart? NOT SMART. But does it look dumb? A little bit. But at least their hands are warm and they're doing something with a sense of purpose. And maybe they're scratching their itchy thighs. They're flabby rashy scratchedy thighs. You don't know. And that's why it's great! There is a sense of ~*mystery*~ inside a pocket.

Hot Pockets. They are delicious to eat. But also that time in LOST when Hurley threw a Hot Pocket at Ben.

Pita pockets. It's an envelope for food. If there's one thing I love more than a letter in an envelope, it's food. I used to order many a pita pocket grilled chicken salad every week in New York. Then I moved away and the restaurant closed. Coincidence?? I think not. I think we can all safely realize that restaurant was only open in order to serve me and sustained itself on my obsessive yet deliciously healthy obsession with ordering 3 to 4 grilled chicken salads a week.

Secret pockets. Men's jackets usually have that nice inside pocket. Ladies don't get those pockets. I would like a pocket that only I know exists. I could put really important stuff in there. Like an emergency cookie. Or a key to my secret ski chalet. So I could ski in skin-tight skiwear that shows off my defined bottom, distracting other skiers who will spill their secrets all over the mountainside.

Or I could pocket a Post-It with the secret code to my secret vault inside my secret ski chalet. What's inside my secret vault? Another secret! Or maybe a secret emergency cookie. But you'll never know.

Pocket. The word has lost all meaning.

You know what hasn't?

This!

imma eat you

2011-01-01T11:11:00.000-08:00

So I saw this.

“Once a little boy sent me a charming card with a little drawing on it. I loved it. I answer all my children’s letters — sometimes very hastily — but this one I lingered over. I sent him a card and I drew a picture of a Wild Thing on it. I wrote, “Dear Jim: I loved your card.” Then I got a letter back from his mother and she said, “Jim loved your card so much he ate it.” That to me was one of the highest compliments I’ve ever received. He didn’t care that it was an original Maurice Sendak drawing or anything. He saw it, he loved it, he ate it.”

And I thought it was just great.

big girl pants, or - I walked on your face

2010-12-27T21:00:00.000-08:00

I am now the proud owner of an iPhone. This is an important step in my human development. This makes me steps closer to true adulthood. When your phone is more than just a phone, your existence becomes more than just an existence. For some reason, it has been decided that it is important to have a friendly little computer by your side at all times. And now I do! It is as though I have gone from sub-human to human in one easy purchase.

It's like going from As the World Turns Julianne Moore to sexy movie star Julianne Moore.

To reiterate. I went from this. And holding on to this guy.

To this. And these guys.

An obvious upgrade - two jungle cats and a giant purse. That spells full true human existence every day of the week. Not that Julianne wasn't totally neat before she was a star. She's a pretty cool lady. But I think we can all see the difference. And so as going from TV to movies was her Professor Henry Higgins, I imagine a phone that can find me a clean toilet to use will be mine.

I like to think of my new phone as something of a Rosie the Robot. A friendly, useful robot. Who for some reason wears clothes. Perhaps I should make a tiny tuxedo for my phone.

I mean, sure he can't make me food. Or fall in love. But I think he would if he knew what food and love were. Anyway. In past when I heard about the future, everybody had robots and crazy gizmos. And now I am part of that future.

Or something.

One thing I am never impressed by in the future? The food. It always seems to be in pellet form. I am not a hamster so I would not enjoy eating pellets. Sure, I would enjoy somebody bringing me food and cleaning up my waste for me and having an amazing wheel that never stops turning on which to run my little hamster feet. But I would not want hamster food. I would like miniaturized food that would actually be full-size food to me, on account of my miniature stature.

I don't like future food that comes in tiny form. And then you have to enlarge it with water or crazy machines.

That just seems unhealthy somehow. But also seems like food an astronaut would eat. And who doesn't love astronauts? So maybe I should rethink this.

In my future the magic of food would be how you can reach into your TV and pull it out and stuff it in your fat face. Like Wonkavision. That's really a miracle. Until I can pull a chocolate bar out of my television, I remain unimpressed with the future of food.

I mean. Who cares if a tiny pizza can turn huge? That only really matters if you have such a small kitchen that keeping your food tiny while you store it is some sort of convenience. Yet you somehow can afford some insane device that enlarges it. So why can't you afford a kitchen with a bigger pantry?? You sound dumb.

Just kidding. I like you all. Like I like David Beckham.

That's all.

xmas specials

2010-12-18T01:29:00.000-08:00

I love holiday specials. I should say Christmas, since I can't think of of any non-Christmas yet still winter-holiday specific specials. Can't think of a Hannukah one...or a Winter Solstice...or whatever else. Anyway, Xmas is the best smelling holiday, so it makes sense it gets the best Xmas specials.

Best smelling?? How can something be best smelling? I'll tell you how - Xmas tree smell, hot chocolate smell, pie smell, cinnamon smell, minty smell, clove smell, hot cider smell - BAM! I wish there was a way to smell things over the internet because I'd totally stick some sort of scratch 'n' sniff right here below this here text. But, impossible. For now...

Anypoops. I love How the Grinch Stole Christmas.

It's seems silly to discuss Xmas specials, since who doesn't like them? But I'm gonna discuss anyway. The Grinch is a fat fuzzy tub of deplorability. He is as green as a booger. And he has a wonderful dog named Max. And that spells XMAS!!!! He wears no pants and his shirt is too small. And that sings XMAS!!! And he kind of looks like Jack Nicholson somehow, it's true!

And if there's any celebrity who truly embodies the holiday spirit, it's Jack.

And here is a fun fact! The movie was directed by Chuck Jones. Who?? Chuck Jones, you magnificent imbeciles!

He is a scholar and a prince. See him below with Boris Karloff! Another gentleman's gentleman. Man's man, lady's man, man about town.

Next up, Rudolph the Red-Nosed Reindeer.

I remember watching this when I was little and there was an earthquake during the movie and the movie was so good I didn't even notice the earthquake and had to be physically moved to safety by another human. That says it's a pretty good movie in my book. I love every stinking thing about this movie and it looks amaaaaazing.

Everyone and everything in it is adorable.

It might possibly be that I thought everything looked like it was made of spun sugar and delicious cookie and pastry doughs...and it is possible I wanted to eat everything. But in any event, nobody ever frowned at saying something looked good enough to eat.

But I think I loved it mostly on account of it being spectacular and magical and being the ocean upon which the Christmas ship sails.

Next. We have - no, not A Charlie Brown Christmas - on account for my love for a Charlie Brown special is entirely devoted to the Great Pumpkin - we have Home Alone. And Home Alone 2, but that should go without saying.

Thank you for teaching me the joy of violence and the defending of oneself from predators. It also taught me not to overdrink liquids before sharing a bed with someone - and also, obviously, not to share a bed with someone with a weak bladder. Additionally, never to take a vacation with a group so large I could not notice a kid was missing until it was pretty much way too late and it was blindingly clear I was definitely some sort of terrible mother or mother figure. It also taught me to beware Joe Pesci and seriously creeped me out about old men who hang out in church yards. And then crazy bird ladies in Home Alone 2. You learn so much from Christmas movies.

And, finally, Elf. Because.

Because he eats spaghetti with syrup. And this.

And this.

That's all there is. There isn't anymore.

when things happen, they HAPPEN

2010-12-07T19:24:00.000-08:00

Sometimes when you're sick, things happen. Pills are taken or things are mixed together in a mug and then ingested or foods of unpleasant combinations are eaten. And we feel momentarily better and then so much worse. Because these are things we learned from the internet. We rub oils on our noses after the deciding putting lotion on a paper towel is the same thing as using a Puffs lotion-enhanced tissue. It is not. Our nose burns. But the oil. It burns, too. We suffer as the oil burns and does not soothe. It does not at all.

We turn down suggestions from professionals because are we not the professional body owners?? Of our own bodies? I believe we are. And we think we know best. And when you feel like a sick pile of worm dumps, you think it would be great to try and fancy yourself up to feel better. To look better is to feel better, sometimes.

We know nothing would be finer than to be an elegant spectacle. Like Marla Hooch.

And so we make a spectacle of ourselves. Because it seems like a good idea at the time.

So. Here.

From me to you.

Even when you feel like poo on a shoe of a bear from Peru.

How to give yourself a Sexy Makeover.

manners, please

2010-12-06T15:46:00.000-08:00

What is with people these days? Have manners and courtesies and etiquettes gone flying naked out the window? I am not talking about being polite or well-mannered and not mentioning poops in conversation or not embarrassing somebody on purpose by loudly talking about the time they made you run out of a train station and grab a cab to hightail it to the nearest toilet due to a sudden onslaught of a Copenhagen Incident, which also happens to have something to do with poops.

I am talking about being nice to strangers. Not even nice! Just acting like everyone you're interacting with is a human person just like you. And you wouldn't behave in a terrible way towards yourself, would you? And if you would, you got bigger whales to butcher. You've got higher balconies off which to try and fly. You gots problems.

A few tips on how to be a human being:

Use your pleases and thank yous.
Use your turn signals.
Use your gas and brake pedals appropriately.
Use your ears and listen when people are talking to you. Acknowledge they are talking to you. And then use the powers of your brain to absorb the information.
Use the information and don't ask the same question I just answered.
Use real pants.
Don't drive in both lanes on the street.
Don't pull over 3/4 of the way out of the street with your boat of a car and pretend you're not holding up a whole lane of traffic.
Don't sneeze into your hand and expect me to want to take the credit card you're holding in that same hand.
Don't borrow my coat to go outside and then smoke while wearing it and stink it up when I asked you not to.

Don't be one half of an hour late.
Don't say you're 5 minutes away when you're 30, 20 or even 10.
Don't "forget" your wallet if you take a person out on a date.
Don't check your phone every five seconds because I know I'm not that boring, so it probably means you are.
Don't not answer my text or call if I'm not where you are and I know you check your phone so often you'd think it was a lone baby cooking a roast beast dinner over a high flame. I'm not saying I need instantaneous results, but I think we can all agree letting days pass is absurd. Unless you're trying to rescue aforementioned lone baby who is now stuck inside a flaming roast beast inside of a locked room.
Don't make that terrifying commercial with that baby with chest hair running down the beach. It's disgusting and makes me physically sick.

Don't ruin the endings of movies! Unless it's a bad movie nobody should see anyway.
Don't be sick and not tell me you're sick until I've already breathed the same air as you, thereby getting me sick.
Don't sneeze on me.
Don't trick Amish people.
Don't impregnate your wife with Satan's baby, especially while she's sleeping.
Don't tell me I look much better in real life than in my driver's license photo - they're all the many faces of me!
Don't ask me if I want two sets of chopsticks when I buy a pantload of sushi at the market - I don't want two sets. I want one. Because it's just me. Eating all that sushi. By myself. And I don't care if you're judging me. Because you know what? I'm not wearing a mumu. Most of the time. And I don't even usually wash myself with a rag on a stick.

Don't wear sheer tights as pants. Don't use leggings, but especially don't use sheer stockings. I've previously discussed buttcheeks in this forum and I don't wish to revisit it any more often than need be.

Okay. Now that that's out of the way.

I have a sore throat and it is NOT OKAY.

I burnt my whole mouth drinking a Candy Cane Tea Latte.

I watched two movies on the TV.

They were both about ladies, one of whom was really ugly.

That was a poem. Written by my sickness.

And for C-Mas is soon upon us.

Mad Farts

2010-11-30T19:05:00.000-08:00

It's Mad Men. And farts.

An enchanted marriage forged in the steamy furnace of a unicorn's paradise.

By Spooky Ghost Films

(also known as me and Almie)

scoundrel!!

2010-11-25T22:04:00.000-08:00

So we last saw Albert Finney looking like a Grumposaurus Rex. This led me to think about Mean Old Dog Face Men. And, more specifically, scoundrels - Mean Old Dog Faced or not. Why is it scoundrels in life and in moving pictures are so excusable? Why is their charm so charming that it pardons bad behaviors? Things that most people simply could not do and still be welcome at a dining table festooned and set for Christmas roast beast!!

This applies to gentleman, young and old. And upon further examination we will see why women cannot act in a manner most unpleasant and live to charm the pants off people another day. First case in point - Billy Liar. He is kind of useless and lives in an imaginary world. And I think he says he's engaged to several ladies.

Which in most cases is something only a grade-A jerk would do. But Billy is just so very adorable about what a turd he is. He lies about everything to everybody.

But he makes it work enough to get Julie Christie to run away with him.

But he really pooches the screws on the whole thing and ends up leaving her on a train to go to London by herself. Somehow she likes him even though he's a liar, and has a boring real life for the most part and tells her about a fantasy world he imagines himself in all the time called Ambrosia. But he's spritely and wears clothes nicely so it's okay. And in the end he pretends he needs some milk from a machine in a train station. This is how Julie Christie is rewarded for her foolishness.

Although this leads my thoughts to a particular scoundrel-woman, who sort of gets away with her bad behavior. But she has to pay for it in the end, I suppose. And this lady is the baddest of all kinds of bad things. She is a movie Nazi! And she seduces Harrison Ford. AND his movie father! That's right, gents and ladies, I'm talking about Indiana Jones and the Last Crusade. And, that's right again, I'm talking about Elsa Schneider.

I know what you're thinking. How can I even write about this woman? She is a movie Nazi, as mentioned AND she seduces my favorite man in the world, Harrison, as mentioned. But you're forgetting a couple things. The more important of which is that her real life last name is DOODY! But she is a scoundrel through and through. Doody can't change everything - it can't change that.

Foremostly, she is a liar. Second mostly, she sleeps with two men of a father and son relation in order to get what she wants.

She is manipulative and let's not forget the jerk Nazi bit. But she's kind of lovable at being horrible. She's super glamorous and has nice hairstyles. And she's pretty. And she and Harrison are just precious together.

And she's more of an opportunist that a total Nazi. But it's really not cool of her to be cool with Nazis just to get what she wants. That's so uncool. It's about as uncool as I was when I was 16 and asked for a new sleeping mask as a birthday gift. Well. Actually. She's way more uncool. But you get the point.

The one thing that makes her less of a scamp is that she allows herself to fall down a big hole in the ground in a seriously dumb way just because she wanted Jesus' special gold sippy cup.

And, thus, as said before - she will not live to charm the pants off someone another day. Sure, this is just one woman, but, as usual, women fall pray to the trap of just being crazy jerks, whereas men get to be charming turds. Just look at Goldie Hawn being a jerk hippie weirdo in all the movies from her days of yore. At least let's look at the terrible film, Butterflies Are Free.

She spends a good amount of time bopping around with this blind guy and she is being so kooky - just so kooky, you wouldn't believe - and then she acts like a total jerk and it's not so kookily charming anymore. To be honest, I never found her charming in the first place. And then she's a jerk to a blind guy! He is BLIND! You can't do that. So, perhaps this is an unfortunate example. But perhaps not. Because even if he could see, her scoundrelly ways towards him are not cute and are not at all charming enough. I guess she prances about in her underwear a lot - which most scoundrelly men never really have to do. So it is unclear where the fault sits at this dinner table.

Anyway. If you're a girl. If you want to be a lovable scoundrel, the first rule is probably not to die by slipping down a hole for a goblet. Or to die in any foolish way. Like getting killed in a drunk motorboat accident. Second rule is definitely don't be mean to blind people. Don't be mean to any people really. Unless you can be super adorable about it, or at least so clever at it that people don't notice you're really being mean. Third rule is if you're not really sure where you're sitting on the scale between lovable kook and nasty piece of ladypants, it's not gonna hurt anyone's case to prance around in your underwear. It might not help much, but it's not gonna hurt. Unless you spill something hot on yourself. Or your underwear is tattered and worn and not up to impressing a hobo down the lane. Then just keep it to yourself. Inside your clothes.

We will conclude with one more scamp of a man to book end this lesson. Hmm...a scoundrel...who could we discuss - I KNOW WHO! I KNOW TWO WHOS WHEN I THINK ABOUT IT. Michael Caine and Steve Martin in Dirty Rotten Scoundrels.

Two jerks trying to trick ladies and steal money. And they charm the pants off everybody!! Really, there's not much that needs to be said about this film. Other than these two dopes can be jerks to me any day. Mostly on account I have no fortune to steal...well. Actually. Mostly on account of they are some of the best men ever.

Oklahoma, indeed.

do not disturb or hold back the penguin

2010-11-17T21:36:00.000-08:00

Today I went to a Planetarium. It took me from inside Earth to outer space to moons of Jupiter and Saturn and some other place I believe was called Mars. Jodie Foster was my tour guide. If there's someone I generally can't get on board with as a person, it's Jodie Foster. But as a narrator, she gets an A+.

Anyway. I can't get on board because Jodie just has a mean cat's face. Even when she is happy, there is a mean cat living behind her face waiting to pounce and scratch. There are a few actresses with mean cat faces. And no matter how good a job they do making me believe they're someone else, I can't get past their mean cat faces.

Like Helen Hunt.

Look at her mean cat face! Her eyebrows are just disdainful and pitying. For no good reason. I don't know Helen Hunt and I don't appreciate her looking at me in that way she does. There are some people who just have faces that make you think that no matter what they say, they're going to have a rotten egg's attitude about it. And you can't help thinking things about people when you look at them! You just can't.

That's why millionaires rarely grow 8-foot long beards and foot-long nails while conserving their bodily fluids in jars surrounding their person.

Not never. But rarely. Because then people would know how completely crazypants their brains are. Millionaires appear normal so all their disgusting behaviors go unnoticed. You wouldn't notice the penguin in a penguin suit - you'd notice the penguin not in a penguin suit, the naked penguin. And nobody ever wasn't at least a little bit scared of Bernard The Naked Crazy Penguin. PS I also saw penguins today.

I suppose, however, a person can't help their face. But a man can have a mean old dog face and I can still totally like him. Like Albert.

He kind of looks like he'd ask you for a sandwich and then when you bring him the sandwich he'd tell you very politely that he never asked for such a thing and then he'd smash it right in your fat face. But I'd still kind of be like, "Oh, that's just cute!" Unless he smashed it in my particular face. I like my face unsmashed and unmashed. But if I saw him do that to someone else I probably would think he was still kind of adorable. Not so with mean cat face ladies. Like Kristen Stewart.

If a mean cat face lady asked for a can of cat food and then when you bring her the cat food she says she only eats Fancy Feast and not the dreck you've given her and then she smashes the can in your face, chipping your favorite tooth...well, let's just say I would most certainly not be like, "Oh, that girl is just incorrigible!"

But I suppose it's much easier for a man to get away with being jerky and it being charming than a lady. Ladies are always coming off crazy for the most part.

But who am I to judge? I'm only as good as the following - which is pretty darn tootin' good!!

This post has been brought to you by grumpy puppy face Albert.

And also by this actual grumpy puppy.

your mother rides a vacuum cleaner!!

2010-11-12T22:17:00.000-08:00

Sometimes things you don't expect jump out of the blue an slap you in the face. And you're like, "HEY!" And sometimes things you don't expect jump out of the blue and lightly tap you on the bottom and you're like, "Oh! Oh, my..." - and this occurrence was more like a tap on the bottom than a slap on the face:

Minding my own beeswax, eating toast and bacon while watching the television - who should I see but Jon Hamm on Gilmore Girls. BAM!

He and the old Gilmore go on a date. But she finds him boring because he's so rich and wants to take her to a David Bowie concert - the MONSTER!! He talked about his fancy fancy car and fancy fancy wine - JERK! And then she decides she won't go see Bowie with him because he was such a snooze and a half.

I hate boring dates as much as the next fat person - but I'd probably tolerate them slightly if the guy was Jon Hamm with a dumb name (Peyton) and the end result would be David Bowie. Even if he is all old and kind of like a lady lizard now.

And even if he and Finola Hughes are the same person. Finola is a soap opera star lady who I best know from hosting the wonderful makeover show "How Do I Look?"

She seriously could be him. I suspect they are the same person. They both love costumes and having the same face.

Anyway. Back to Hamm. As stated, Hamm plays a man named Peyton. Men shouldn't be named Peyton. You know who should be? Books. Or movies. Like Peyton Place.

I think certain boredoms can be excused on a terrible date and some cannot. Boredoms to excuse include boring conversations while taking a private jet to a private island, boring television programs being watched while sitting in a private mansion on top of a private mountain range, and observing boring jungle cats doing nothing but sitting on their fat cat butts in a private zoo in a private country.

Unfortunately my terrible dates involve none of these things. And so none of the boredoms I have suffered are excusable.

SEGWAY TO -

I love that fat green witch from Bugs Bunny. I love that fat old bean.

Named

Witch Hazel

You know who I don't understand? Andy Richter. As far as I can tell, from watching what totals out as about 1 hour of Conan's show, he doesn't do anything at all. All he does is sit in the chair next to the celebrity being interviewed and interject things that aren't funny or interesting or anything. Then Conan and his guest have to sort of acknowledge him in that way when you're talking to someone you know about something some third person knows nothing about and that third person tries to involve themselves in the conversation and it just makes everyone want to cringe.

Anyway. Witch Hazel. Watch the following. And be aware of how strongly I identify with Hansel and Gretel. Hansel? Hansel...? Hansel.......??

obligatory halloween disbelief

2010-10-30T08:42:00.000-07:00

With Halloween just around the corner, of course ladies are gonna dress like their disgusting depraved creatures of the night. But there is a limit. And that was hit last evening. It's not even Halloween yet. I get people are going to parties. But. This was just nasty.

It wasn't accidental. Or a result of some trickery saying there was an emergency underwear party.

It was just lingerie. Not lingerie like an old timey Playboy Bunny costume. Not lingerie with the guise of any decoration to be a sexy sailor, pilot, pirate, wizard, robot or anything! Just lingerie.

Lingerie is not a costume. This woman was actually wearing a piece of bottom underwear that went up between where her butt is split. You could see each cheek. And over that she had on a see through undergarment with feathers where her boobs should be. This is called a teddy, or, as I just looked up and like better, a camiknicker. Either way, I don't want to see it tromping down the street encasing a person but revealing everything with its sheer vulgarity. It is not a Halloween costume!

It. Is just. Nasty.

I don't want to see some stranger's butt jiggling its way down the street. I just don't. Undergarments are just that. For undering. They are not overgarments.

Then again.

Maybe that woman should be admired for not even pretending her costume is supposed to be something else. She just decided to wear underwear that should be kept inside one's bedroom or preferably never purchased in the first place. She was brave and threw it all out there on the table. She didn't stick ears on it and call it a mouse.

She was just like - "Taking back the night! Marching around in my underwear! BAM! Halloween means underpants EXPOSED! It means ass cheeks on parade!" And that is the true spirit of Halloween, is it not?

But she probably shouldn't be admired - you probably should never admire a woman who exposes her buttcheeks in public. Nor should you admire a woman who invites you for tea and then you get to the door and she's pantless, facing you butt-forward.

I'm not saying you have to wrap yourself up like a mummy, exposing none of your skin. I'm not saying you have put some big old teeth in your mouth and wear a wedding dress.

I'm not saying a lot of things.

I'm just saying: I don't want to see your butt cheeks.

how to look good dancing...

2010-10-25T01:23:00.000-07:00

Full length dance lessons to followsoon...until then, here is this...

music for friday

2010-10-22T18:42:00.000-07:00

close your legs

2010-10-21T14:59:00.000-07:00

I like to Exercise On Demand on the television. The other day I decided to try Crunch Burlesque because I thought it would be like the other ridiculous burlesque work out I tried in which it was all ladies above 50 and they were all just hi-larious.

But that was not by Crunch. Crunch does things differently. Weirdly. Creepily.

During the Crunch work out there was a lot of the lead lady saying things along the lines, "We're exercising but it's better because we're doing it cute!" And this had something to do with the fact that, "This is how we do it in LA! Keep it sexy! Be cute! Do it cute! And sexy! Light and sexy! Fun and cute!"

This is gross. She is gross. I am in LA. Things like that lady and what she is saying make people not like LA and people in LA. Rest assured I am not like that. And my LA is not like that. There are plenty of people here not like that. But she makes me want to leave LA and it's people like that and go far far away to a land of regular aerobic movement - like walking around outside and such.

But it was raining and when it's raining the outdoors becomes a different world into which it becomes impossible to voyage.

I don't have to do everything sexy and cute and light and fun. Do I? Sure, I do! But that's just me! I go to the supermarket and I keep it sexy and cute and light and fun. I take my fat dog for a short walk before we're both out of breath, but my fat dog keeps it sexy and cute and light and fun for the both of us. I even keep it sexy and cute and light and fun when I use the powder room! But while exercising?? That crosses my lines.

It's rude to be told to do that in a work out. Where you're supposed to be lifting heavy things and be strong. Nobody every said, "Oh, what a cute bunny - it's so powerful when it hops!" People say, "Oh, what a cute bunny - it's like a cloud I want to hug it! It couldn't hurt a bug if it pooped on it! It's so wonderfully immobile!" So it's just weird to be told to be cute and sexy while exercising and especially that you HAVE TO be cute and sexy or you're doing it wrong.

And on the subject of bunnies -

Nobody was every impressed by the Playboy Bunnies strength and powers.

And she kept telling me to, "Close my legs!"

Which is great advice if you're a 1950s school slut but I am not any one part of any of that. So stop shouting at me to close my legs if they're only open because you just told me I had to for what is apparently passing as a burlesque dance move. PS - I know that's a photo of Sandy from Grease and not Rizzo who, by all rights and knowledges, was the school slut. But I always figured Sandy's makeover was more about turning herself into a world class strumpet than anything else.

I suppose it was all really my fault. I didn't really expect to not be shouted at if I was doing an exercise. It's On Demand, after all. I asked for it. But I didn't ask for the sexy or cute. I really didn't.