Monthly Archives: December 2008

Is Laura Bush Actually Dick Clark In Drag? (And Other Burning Questions)

A friend of mine did that thing today that all socially conscious people find themselves doing this time of year–inquiring about New Year’s plans.  It’s kind of that default question that you end up formulating a default answer to because it is, after all, slightly more exciting than the whole “How about this weather?” “It’s unseasonably mild and I’m awfully concerned about those polar bears” thing. 

So that friend of mine.  We had the default New Year’s Q&A session.  He asked, and I told him, “I’m working.”  Because that’s the truth.  And without skipping a beat, he said, “You will be working all year.”  I said, “What?!”  (Because this is a terrifying declaration).  He said (in a tone offering no glimmer of refutable hope), “You won’t stop working.  All year.” 



My friend, it seems, was referring to that idea that what you do on New Year’s sets the tone for the year, it sends your intentions out to the universe, who/which, in turn, sends those intentions right back to you.  Or something. 

Well, I’m a little distraught over this.  More than a little–I’m blogging about it at 5am.  The thing is, I’m highly impressionable.  I’ll hear someone mention a superstition and it will stay with me.  For years.  One of my roommates once told me that any time we walked on opposite sides of a large metal object we had to say “Hello” to each other or we would get in a fight.  And we had to say “Hello” in Russian.  Because it was a Russian superstition.  From my Russian roommate. 

But here’s my plan.  I’m not calling out of work because I get paid double for that shift.  Instead, I’m going to go to CVS, get my passport photo taken, and bring those to work with me.  Dear universe, my intent for 2009 is to travel, okay?  I hear there are actually some countries that are not war-torn at the moment, so the prospects are limited but exciting nonetheless.  Thank you kindly.

This passport thing is a whole ‘nother ranting post just waiting to happen.  Why do we need documentation to travel our own damn planet?  Why do we go to the drug store to get photos taken ($6.99+tax) and then the post office to fill out an application that must be witnessed that takes, like, 3 years for them to approve and send to you?  (Not that I know, I haven’t done it.)  And it costs an additional $100.  You can’t even get into Canada without a passport now.  What is the world coming to?

Speaking of Laura Bush, she made a statement on the shoe throwing incident and told whoever took the time to listen to her that she “wasn’t amused.”  As someone who misleadingly presents themselves as a current librarian when really she only entertains the occasional thought of becoming one in the future…I feel a strange bond with this former librarian.  And here’s what I think: she’s a liar.  If someone throws their shoes at your husband you laugh.  Slapstick comedy 101, no?  Whatever.  She’s terrifying.  I never spoke of her to begin with.

Haute Couture Golden Girl Style

Okay, two things.

1. I want this t-shirt:


2. Why is she posing on top of what looks to be a grave stone?  Estelle Getty is dead, yeah, but not Bea Arthur!

Christmas Memories…

I need to thank Jesus.  Thank you for the whole manger, miracles, crucifixion thing, but THANK YOU for having me born into a family where my mom receives Predator on DVD from my dad and thinks it’s the best gift ever.  I thought she was being sarcastic when she unwrapped it and exclaimed “PREDATOR! THANK YOU!” but no.  We then proceeded to watch it and I thought, “I could be enduring some horrible, forced gathering of people who don’t like each other, but instead I’m drinking wine with crazy people who I love and listening to Arnold Schwartenegger and bad pussy jokes.” 

For the record, I think Arnold Schwartenegger is a terrifying human being ever since I watched Pumping Iron.  Also, the pussy jokes really are terrible (yes, I imdb’d Predator and went into Memorable Quotes just to look for the pussy jokes):

Hawkins: Hey Billy. Billy! The other day, I went up to my girlfriend, I said, “Y’know I’d like a little pussy”. She said, “Me too, mine’s as big as a house!”
[Billy stares blankly]
Hawkins: See, she, she wanted a little one ’cause hers was…
[Hawkins pauses, then trails off]
Hawkins: … big as a house.

Hawkins: Billy. Billy! The other day, I was going down on my girlfriend, I said to her, “Jeez you got a big pussy. Jeez you got a big pussy.” She said, “Why did you say that twice?” I said, “I didn’t.”
[Billy stares blankly]
Hawkins: See, cuz of the echo.

Other highlights: receiving Abba’s greatest hits (something about that Swedish pop), and a scarf that my parents found abandoned on a railing in one of the Smithsonian museums and decided to give to me. Apparently my dad tried to take it for himself, but my mom petitioned that it be given to me with a gift tag that read “From: ?” As I tried it on she said, “Don’t worry, I washed it.”

May your days be merry and bright and may all your Christmases be whiiiiite.

To counteract the terribleness of the Edge Shave Gel ad, I think an awkward love scene from a classic Chistmas movie is in order.  Here’s Part 8/13 from White Christmas.  If you’re about to run out to do that last minute shopping thing, skip to 4:10 and 4:38 to see Bing and Rosemary making out, and skip to 9:08 to see a young Sister Mary Lazarus from Sister Act!  She looked the same in 1954 as she did in 1992, it’s nothing short of a Christmas miracle.

Masturbation and Shave Gel Commercials

While taking in an episode of “Arrested Development” on hulu a couple days ago, an Edge Shave Gel commercial was shown during the first break.  It distracted me so much that I’m not sure I even finished watching the episode.  It features four girls in green bikinis stroking themselves and saying things like “moist lubricant.”  Then they put on new green bikinis and preceed everything they say with words like big, giant, massive, colossal, enormous.  It’s cool how Edge decided to get really blatant with the tried and true message, “If you buy our product these girls will bang you.” 

No, actually, it’s not.  It pissed me off, much like this Twix commercial.   Edge is probably trying to make fun of the “sex sells” standard, but that doesn’t change the fact that these women are getting paid to stroke themselves and make references to sex and penis size, while saying absolutely nothing about shave gel.  

“dclehr” shows exactly why this commercial sucks so much in a YouTube comment: “this commercial made me laugh for a good 5 minutes. The point was to make fun of girls trying to be sexy and sell a product. It served it’s purpose.”   Notice how you can just end that sentence with “The point was to make fun of girls.” 

I can take a joke, but not one that uses women as sex objects to sell their product.  So, that said, take a look:     

I guess I was wrong. Hot girls in bikinis doesn’t always equal a successful commercial. Really a pathetic effort… -crazygolfer333

i had to masterbathe at this it was sweet -alphadog303

Movie Tie-In Editions Can Go To Hell

It’s very important to be aware of your pet peeves.  You never know when you’re going to need to fill out a MySpace survey asking you to name your biggest one.  Or when you’re going to sit across from someone at a speed dating table demanding to hear your top two…in bed.  Similarly, it’s important to be able to name your most embarrassing moments offhand.  One of my most embarrassing moments involved accidentally referring to a pet dog by the name of a girl I was babysitting for the first time.  In my defense, her name was Teddy.  Which is a perfectly wonderful name, but it is rather species-neutral.

Anyway, one of my biggest pet peeves are those damn movie tie-in edition book covers that announce “NOW A MAJOR MOTION PICTURE!”  They’re the worst idea ever:

I accidentally amputated Elizabeth Berkely's leg here.

I accidentally amputated Elizabeth Berkely's leg here.

And yeah, Showgirls was never a novel.  Anyway, they piss me off because…they’re books!!  It’s great that they were made into movies, but when I read a book, I want to use my own imagination.  Not Martin Scorsese’s, dammit!  I don’t want a picture of Keira Knightly stuck in my head while Elizabeth Bennett and Mr. Darcy are having wild, passionate sex.  (It was implicit, but it totally happened.)   I love movies, I love books, but when a book is made into a movie it’s an adaptation.  It’s not the same thing.  So stop acting like it’s the same thing, Harper Collins.  Everyone likes Penguin better.  Simon & Schuster told me.

Too Much Quirk?

There are too many publishing jobs on Craigslist requiring knowledge of that damn Quark software.  There is also a soft cheese called Quark that hails from Eastern Europe.  I’ve never tried it, so I can’t say if there can be too much of that, but too much cheese is usually never a good thing.  Oh, this is exciting–“The Quark” is the narrowest segment of the Baltic Sea between Sweden and Finland.  Its only claim to fame is there being very little of it, so it’s really not in its best interest for there to be too much more of it.  And then there are those quarky subatomic particles, but I digress.  What I’m getting at is, there can indeed be too much quark, but no, there cannot be too much quirk.

I’ve been itching to dedicate a post to Zooey Deschanel lately.  Every time I see a trailer for Yes Man I remember how much I love her.  In this week’s Onion Keith Phipps reviews Yes Man and describes Deschanel as a “go-to quirk-provider.”  Reading that was a bit of a revelation for me because I have a strange obsession with quirkiness and it’s gotten worse since I’ve graduated college for some reason.  It’s to the point where I can’t pick up a book unless it’s at least as quirky as something by Tom Robbins.  Same with films.  If it’s got Bill Murray having a life crisis of some kind, I’m there.  Anyway, apparently I look for quirk in my leading ladies, too. 

I haven’t seen everything she’s been in, but Hitchhiker’s Guide to the Galaxy makes me cry it’s so perfectly quirky.  I really need to read the actual Douglas Adams books.  Also, she was pretty much the only redeemable thing in Failure to Launch, that ridiculous Sarah Jessica Parker/Matthew McConaughey romantic comedy.  Then, thanks to Pandora, I came across her music:

 I want to make music like that.  Dammit.  Except the tone of my voice is more comparable to, say, Bing Crosby’s pa rum pum pum pums in this quirky duet with David Bowie:

Okay, that might be more awkward than quirky.  Anyway, one final Zooey Deschanel clip.  Probably my favorite.  1. Because she has such a good voice, and 2. Because she’s naked.  Okay, really just because she’s naked.