Tuesday, November 24, 2009

Get Your Sparkle On!

So the second of the I Wanna Kill Myself to Be With My Misogynist Boyfriend Forever Saga came out recently. And I dd not see it. But I still have opinions...

Because I read the books. I admit it. USmellGr8 gave me the first one and I was flabbergasted by it. Then my niece asked for them for her birthday, so I decided I need to know what was in them before I handed them over to a kid with my personal endorsement. Holy Shit.

In case you were distracted by the shiny cars, giant hair, and shinier body glitter, here is a quick summary of the Twilight Series.

Book One: Twilight

A pale girl with good grades, good parents, good clothes, and one and only one sympathetic and mandatorially endearing flaw (she's clumsy) moves in with her dad in wet rainy Washington State to selflessly give her loving mother and stepfather "space". Bullshit. Anyway, this whiny bitch moves in with her dad who buys her a truck, and then she treats him like fucking dirt. She goes to school and all the boys are falling all over her, and she eventually has to suffer through THREE invitations to the dance, Oh No! It's hard being so plain that everyone wants to be your friend and take you out. There are some pasty rich kids and she gets a hard on for one of them and accidentally gets to sit next to him in biology, which makes him act like he wants to throw up. She is charmed by this. Then some kid almost hits her with a van, pasty nauseated boy stops the van like superman, and when they go to the hospital she's all like, What was that? And he's all like, Nothing, shut the fuck up and mind your own business. And she loves him like any abuse victim would. He keeps telling her to go the fuck away, which obviously means he loves her, right?  Then she wanders around some city she doesn't know, goes hiking through a warehouse district trying to get raped, and nauseated boy psychically finds her and drives wrecklessly onto the scene in an obnoxious car. Then he buys her a coke, and tells her he's not attracted to her sexually but she's delicious and he wants to eat her. She loves him so much that she wants to commit suicide. Yay! Then he drives her to school.  She wants to have sex, but like any perpetually 17 year old boy, he says, no thank you ma'am, I won't make a dishonest woman of you, just a snack. So he hangs out in her room all night, everynight. Also, he sparkles for her. Oh, and Vampires and Jesus are cool with one another, and you still have to go absorb all that religious die for someone sort of bullshit. His J.Crew vampire family thinks she's delicious and takes her to play baseball, like vampires do. Some fashion victim vampires show up, One of them also thinks she delicious, and tries to eat her, which upsets nauseated boy. They travel a lot and then smash up a dance studio and nauseated boy's brother snaps the fashion victim vampire's neck. Then they go to the prom! He promises he will never ever ever ever leave her.

Moral: Your dad's an idiot, a free car is nothing unless it's a Porsche, when people are mean to you it means they love you, and being superbly popular and having lots of friends is such a bore that you should find a boyfriend who orders you around and makes you want to kill yourself.

Book Two: New Moon

He leaves her. Now she is aged and decepit and at her 18th birthday she cuts her finger and his brother tries to eat her. Giant hair boy dumps her for being too delicious to other people. She, sensibly, falls down on the forest floor and goes into a coma. Then she leads on Native American Boy with great abs who has a huge crush on her, cuz that's ok. She makes him fix her motorcycle and then tries to basically kill herself to get a halucinogenic high of her d-bag ex-boyfriend. She lies to her stupid dad because he just DOESN'T GET HOW UPSET SHE IS BECAUSE SHE AND GIANT HAIR BOY ARE MEANT TO BE!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! Then she jumps off a cliff. Giant hair boy goes to Italy to sparkle himself to death, but she finds out and makes her father relive the day his wife left him in order to go and stop Giant Hair Boy. Then they go to an Anne Rice novel for a little while, and come back and tell her pining buddy that she's back with d-bag over there. Oh and her buddy turned into a werewolf because of d-bag and had to leave home.

Moral: Acting like a psycho because you got dumped and trying to kill yourself is totally normal. You don't need coping skills. Using another boy who is in love with you is totally ok, because you need to have your motorcycle fixed to get your high. Also, you're dad's still an idiot and emotionally scarring him is ok if you're gonna go to Europe. And at 18 you need wrinkle cream, you haggy old bitch.

Book Three: Eclipse

I didn't even bother to read this one. Seriously. There are some super extra strong new vampires and they kill them and stuff.

Moral: These books still suck.

Book Four: Breaking Dawn

This is where Meyer included every random thing she saw on tv that month. She graduates, decides to lie about going to college, marries the d-bag, the go to some island and fuck so hard they break the house, and then she gets instantly preggo from his super living dead sperm and makes a baby in like fifteen minutes. Except they fly to his parents first and when it's obvious that the fetus monster is trying to kill her, "And then Bella vomited a fountain of blood." They have a discussion about how abortion is wrong and our heroine decides to die (FINALLY!) but unfortunately the book doesn't stop there. Giant Hair boy gnaws open her uterus with his teeth to save the Monster Baby and then turns her into a vampire.  And Surprise! She's the most specialest, prettiest, stongest, sparkliest, vampire-i-est vampire ever! Used Werewolf boy marks the baby, and declares his pedophilic lover for it. Then the Anne Rice people come back and there's a big conversation in the field over killing Monster Baby. And then it's all cool, and the Monster Baby grows up superfast so that werewolf boy can get to banging it. Oh and her stupid idiot dad is all cool with the dead daugher thing and the creepy baby.

Moral: ABORTION IS WRONG! JESUS IS RIGHT!  YOUR DAD'S AN IDIOT! DO EVERYTHING YOUR DESSERTER BOYFRIEND TELL YOU TO DO! DON'T HAVE PREMARITAL SEX! HUMP BABIES!
KILL YOURSELF!


These books aren't just drivel, they are fucking dangerous for girls or ANYONE to be reading. I gave my niece a copy of Atlas Shrugged instead.

Please don't buy, read, look at, or think of any of these books, movies, or related topics. Also, please stab Stephanie Meyer through the heart with a stake for poisoning children's minds. And Rob Pattinson for a paid performance that could have been done by a lamp wearing a Fonzie wig.


Read this Instead










Tuesday, November 10, 2009

Just Because You're Dressed Like A Brontosaurus Doesn't Mean You Can Poop In My Yard And Roar At My Neighbors

Sushi disagrees.

But that's ok, because he just had his old day! Happy slightly belated old day! Every year I feel just a little bit better because you're another year older, and I'm still 25 again.

Not too much news here. I'm attempting to learn lines in 3 five person scenes that we've only rehearsed once each and which I'm supposed to have memorized for tomorrow. Hmm...

Also, I caught the chinchilla doing the you-know-what to his you-know-where area and I freaked out again. It's just freaking weird to see a puff ball do that. I blame his father.

I'm going to suck if I ever have teenagers.

And MikeInSpanish guilted me into going to dodgeball when I was sick, and now I can't talk. Oh well, the dogs don't listen anyway.

AND...hmm... I swear something awesome was coming up...OH YEAH, VACATION MOFO'!
I feel like the Kool Aid man all of a sudden. But yes, vacation, moving, another vacation, and much getting of sweaters to celebrate my birth and that of some crazy hippie who has helped to seasonally bolster our economy! Woo hoo! Take that Communism!

And vacation/Thanksgiving/3rd annual 25th birthday/Christmas means... I'm gonna see you! Chances are, if you're reading this, we're probably going to get wings someplace in America, or cheese someplace in Europe, within the next 60 days. Or that I owe you a burrito. Please fix my computer, Sushi, it's crying stinky tears....

And Mr.BigName messaged me today. And Allie said no movies right now. So... I'm thinking laser tag. Everyone likes laser tag. Even Grandma!

And I've been thinking about Christmas shopping. While I appreciate that my siblings eventually stopped procreating (I have 15 nieces and nephews, that's a lot of my shopping budget), I don't appreciate that the pre-existing offspring has been aging and turning into adult people. I prefer to buy things at FAO Schwartz or someplace equally as creepy, awesome, and overpriced, but now that they're all hitting that teenage, or preteen age ("TWEEN", as it maybe. sounds like something used to shape your eyebrows...) they want lame shit, like iPods. I have a freaking iPod. I want to use them as an excuse to by a fucking playdoh-monster-making-cookie-oven-hairsalon-powered by a potato or some shit. But no. They want tickets to see Taylor Swift. That is not fun for me to purchase. I don't care if you're 16, you're getting a goddamn PowerWheels this year.

Also, upon further reflection, I may buy the dogs their own Power Wheels, and at the same time cement my reputation as crazy dog lady, and help them begin their previously unmobile takeover of the Earth.

Does anyone know any old cowboy songs? The ones my mom used to sing were about losing a woman, dying, losing a dog, a dying dog, losing your woman to a dying dog.... I was just wondering if there were any other themes that I had missed.

I want a neck rub more than sex right now. That's rough.

Thursday, November 05, 2009

Gimme Gimme Gimlet

How do I know she loves me? She tells me.

"A Melissa goes 'shut the fuck up, Judy' "

Can't you feel the sisterly adoration? lol.

Aside from being serenaded with sweet words of loving from my nearest and dearest, this week is pants.

I have no recollection of finishing the above sentence. I switched windows to tell USmellGr8 that she was going to gurgle to the bottom of the sea like Leonardo DiCaprio, and I came back and it was there. Ooooh,... haunted blog....

I have no idea what I did this week. Hmm....

I ate some lasers. True story. And now I sound like Dr. Girlfriend for a few days. Yay, in office surgery!

Also... I... well I finally had a monologue rehearsal... and... hmm... I got a new place... and... a skirt... and... I called a restaurant where my ex boyfriend works now to get quotes for a bridal shower, and said ex boyfriend now thinks I'm getting married... to my friend's fiance... that's awkward. And kind of hilarious.

I could have sworn I was more interesting than this.

I've been working on "writing" a new show, but I can't describe my formula for brilliance because the Germans might steal it and bring Hitler back from the grave as a dog. If you understand that reference, I may love you.... :)

It's cold here! Good god, I could use a little Miami heat.




Monday, November 02, 2009

Where's My Halloweenie Now?

Yay! Halloweenie time again!

Here are Beave and I as Molotov Cocktease and Brock Samson.

God Bless America. Or Russia. Or Whatever.


It was a rockin' night, kiddies.

Friday night was nice stuff, but we went to Noxema Green's and stayed at the one party all night long. Great costumes, a Lady Gaga, a Christina, break dancers, Charlie Brown, hoochies, Mother Nature, Homer Simpson, a pirate, Maverick, and Crockett and Tubbs from Miami Vice.

Oh, my! Don Johnson! *swoon*


And BananaHavana made tiny pigs in a blanket. Yay for cocktail weinies on Halloweenie!

And here's LittleEdie and I in a photo booth at the Holiday Club. Woo hoo!

Saturday, October 31, 2009

If You Get Alopecia, They Give You A Cape


"I'm billowing! I'm billowing!"

This guy dresses up like Superman every year, and every chance he gets. And then starts superhero bar fights.

My friends were drunk superheroes and Bouviers last night. See Grey Gardens. Sculpearrk kept begging for photos to be taken of his Superman cape blowing in the wind. Demanding actually is more like it. Did I mention he was verschnicken? And in blue contacts with tiny pupils on them, so he just looked a little creepy and catlike all night long. And I learned that superheros have a crotch zipper in their unitard under the little man panties. He decided we all needed to know that. We also ran into the Marvel Family at The Holiday Club, and there was much posing. There is also a photo booth, and four of us inside of it.

And after being so uncomfortable in the Catwoman outfit at TV reruns, I decided that my Halloween costume needed to push my comfort zone way the hell out there. So I dressed like Molotov from the Venture Bros. Also, I've never been anything pretty for halloween, my favorite costume thus far was Mr. T. (cross dressing and racial impersonation, be offended, be very offended) and I guess Molotov counts as pretty. She's at least very obviously female. There was a lot of tape, and I expected a few comments, but I didn't expect tons of random girls touching me to find out "if it's real". At first I didn't even know what they meant, but apparently they thought I bought a fake chest insert. A really, really pasty fake chest insert.

And I feel amazingly chipper today. I got up at 10 am after not getting home until 4:30 am. I think that there's just a subconscious burst of energy knowing that my friends are all hungover, and that never having more than two drinks in a night is still the best rule I've ever given myself. This allows that, 1) I can always drive myself home after a suitable amount of time, 2) I have much less chance of being raped, 3) I can wear outfits that don't allow you too pee.

And Beave is coming tonight dressed as Brock! Woo Hoo! And we're going to Mallory's. Double Woo Hoo! Pictures shall be forthcoming. And then I'll wish that my family didn't see them.

On to Halloweening!

Tuesday, October 27, 2009

It Is Always Cold In Siberia

Je ne vous aime pas comme si vous étiez sel-rose, ou topaz, ou la flèche des oeillets que le feu tire au loin. Je t'aime car certaines choses foncées doivent être aimées, dans le secret, entre l'ombre et l'âme. Je t'aime comme plante qui ne fleurit jamais mais transporte en soi la lumière des fleurs cachées ; grâce à votre amour un certain parfum plein, levé de la terre, les vies obscurément dans mon corps. Je t'aime sans savoir comment, ou quand, ou d'où. Je t'aime simplement, sans complexités ou fierté ; tellement je t'aime parce que je ne sais aucune autre manière que ceci : là où je n'existe pas, ni vous, ainsi près de cette votre main sur mon corps est ma main, ainsi près de celui vos yeux se ferment pendant que je tombe endormi.


I remember this... I'm just discouraged the past.... 5 years... coincidence? Or need for adventure?

Friday, October 23, 2009

All My Kingdom For a Hotel Bed

Can't sleep, clowns will eat me....

Actually, I can't sleep because they won't let me.... It's all well and good that I work 16 hrs a day, but the fact that I do it from 11 am to 4 am means that I am asleep when other people go to work, so that must mean I'm lazy... How can I dare to not wake up at 6 in the morning like other productive people?

If you can't tell, I'm having a frustrating and sarcastic day.

Also, I'm exhausted. (duh). I have four jobs now. Three of which I love and actually have something to do with all of that schooling for which I paid. But that makes them inconsequential and indecent.

Did I mention I'm having a Bitching and Whining Day?

Let's balance it out.

Fight Jam 6 was awesome! We got a great response, 13 new people, and I got some new marketing and cash flow ideas. Also I got Tom signed on for next month as a photographer. Woo hoo!

Tomorrow I'm going with Wizard of Sorts to da club. Fo reals.

Now, don't get me wrong, I still hate da club with every fiber of my being, but it's for work related stuff, and he called me pretty, so how could I say no? Thinking about it makes me all clammy and chunder-prone, but this is that outside-your-comfort-zone-watch-out-for-roofies sort of thing that actors do in real life.

And I'm filming something next week that involves jujitsu and suffragettes. And it's based on history. Kick ass!

Ok, I feel better now. Not more rested, but better.