All Hail Me!!

I just found ten dollars in my pocket, which proves two things:

1) This is the best day ever

2) I am dirty and don't wash my clothes

Let's Talk About Sex... At Work

As most of you already know... I work in a department store for a living. I'm a shopgirl... selling men's clothing to pissy, old women and their pervy husbands. Being that this is not the career I want for myself, I don't much care about the job. I should have been fired five hundred times by now... I'm late almost every day, I don't care about it, and I just get snappier with the customers as time goes on. The funny thing is, the grouchier and more condescending I get, the nicer they are. Yesterday I solidified that this is not the job for me when I stood around and had inappropriate conversations with my gal pal all day long in front of the old bags. Here are a few tid bits that some lucky senior citizens got to overhear....

As an elderly gentleman looks through the pants right beside me:

Me: "What..? You think Michael Douglas really cheated on Catherina Zeta-Jones? Why would he do that?.. He's OLD!" (continued negative chatter about old men...)

Friend: "He's Michael Douglas.. You know he was a big player in his day.."

Me: *pause* "Yeah, nevermind... You're right. I'd still screw him."

As a middle-aged woman walks around the register, waiting for me to ring up her socks...

Friend: "He looked me up and down when I walked by... What do you think that means? That he likes me or that he doesn't want to talk to me anymore?"

2nd friend: "Oh yeah he likes..."

Me: "He wants to have sex you... Old pervert. He's just trying to get in your pants . . .
Did you need help with something ma'am?"

At the top of the escalator, while greeting customers...

Me to friend: "Jason Bateman is so sexy. I bought 'Arrested Development' on DVD today... I just really, really want to have sex with him. If you were my friend you'd kidnap him so I could rape him. I'd really like that."

That last one pretty much repeated throughout the rest of the day.

Mild language, really... but when you know the types of stuck-up, in-your-face, over-zealous, religious cheapos that come into that place... Well, I'm surprised none of them called the store manager... who I would also contemplate having sex with. He's prrretty attractive, if you know what I mean. *wink, knudge, wink*

So I Heard Irony Kicked Your Ass Last Night

Not so long ago, two friends of mine went to the bar (No, it wasn't a priest and a rabbi). As they walked out into the parking lot, one was teasing the other about his horrible luck with his car (it's been broken into 2 or 3 times throughout the period of just a few weeks, and has had numerous mechanical problems). The friend who was so quick to mock was quickly put in his place though, as at that very moment he witnessed a drunk driver pull out from the parking spot right beside the aforementioned, unlucky vehicle, and swerve directly into his own automobile. Not very much damage, I believe, but plenty of hilarity.

On hearing this story the day after, my new favorite phrase was born: 'So I heard irony kicked your ass last night.' I haven't gotten too many chances to use it though... Until I read about this today:

"A newly opened restaurant called Car Crash has had to close down - after a car crashed into the building."

It gets better. The owner named the restaurant Car Crash because there were never automobile accidents in that area.

Irony: 1
Restaurant owner: 0

Car crashes into Car Crash

FYI: No one was hurt in the accident.

Pissed-Hoff

Attn: This is old news, but no less good news. Sparked by my random rememberance that David Hasselhoff is still alive and living somewhere among us. You may have won the battle for now, Hasselhoff; but the war is not yet over, my friend.

David Hasselhoff: legend. sex-symbol. unitor of East and West Germany?

According to the Knight Rider himself, he sure as hell is; and was highly disturbed to find that he has been excluded in memorials dedicated to the historical moment.

Proof that someone thinks waay too highly of himself in 5..

4...

3..

2...

"I find it a bit sad that there is no photo of me hanging on the walls in the Berlin Museum at Check-Point Charlie."

Simply appalling.

Hasselhoff claims he had hand in Berlin Wall falling

Great Gift Ideas for Yours Truly

I officially really, really want to have sex with Jason Bateman's character, Michael, on 'Arrested Devolpment' in the worst way*. I'm a sucker for a sweet, hilarious, clever, cutely bumbling man... in khakis and a button down. Whenever he makes this face:

I'm allll kinds of seduced, baby. And why do I love his hair so much? No hair has ever been so hot. Also... He always looks cute, but who knew that he was studly as well?..


Where the hell did this picture come from? Hilarious and sexy? I must have him. Now. A quarter of a million times, at least. He would make a grrrreat birthday gift. Keep that in mind.

I'm in love with a new fictitious character, it seems.



Other fictional men on my to do list:



Gerard Butler from 'The Phantom of the Opera'. Dark, tormented soul with a cool mask and voice of an angel.... all this and the power to hypnotize through the use of song? Sign me up.



Ewan McGregor in 'Moulin Rouge'. Apparently I've got a thing for singers... and sideburns. But seriously... what woman wouldn't fall in love with that voice and goofy grin? Exxxactly.


*Worst way: See extremely naughty and tasteless porn film.

Bad Joke of the Day

Say hello to M.K. Olsen; or should I say . . . .




E.T. Olsen?


Ouch. Creepy.

Crazy Horse, Shmazy Horse

How I felt last night... but with a slightly more revealing top... Slightly.


Yup. That's more like it.

Last night I went with a few friends to a local club known as 'Crazy Horse'. Now as much fun as that title sounds, believe-you-me, it's nothing but a badly-dressed redneck hang out. I anticipated this, but was determined to go out into the real world for once.

So I got all dolled up and headed out the door. The friend I was meeting is house-sitting at the moment and so I promised to meet him there, even though I didn't remember the way to the neighborhood at all (Sidenote: My cell phone is currently out of commission, and so I ventured out on this journey with nothing but my own wits to guide me - Never a good thing). Anyway, the jist of this story is that I ended up driving around the long, straight road that is 220 for almost an hour... careening in and out of every street that branched off of it.

An hour of my life and a quarter tank of gas wasted.

Welcome to my life. Pull up a chair; fall asleep.

So I finally, in utter anger, pull over to Wal-Mart to find a phone. Luckily, I had change for once (Can you believe it's $.50 to make a phone call now? God... I remember when it was like $.25 or something. I also just realized that I've become my grandmother: grumpily reminiscing about the good ol' days. "Back when I was your age....")

Back to the story.

So I step into Wal-Mart, dressed for the club*, and ask the old man if there is a customer phone.. He kindly directs me to the pay phone around the corner. So there I went... like one of those dirty guys in wife-beaters that you see at the gas stations, waiting by the pay phone to make drug deals. Yep, that was me last night. Except the conversation included sentences like "A curse be upon that house!" and "Yes - I am a fucking moron." Drug-dealer though I might be.. Entertaining vernacular none-the-less.

The moral of this story is: 1) Always bring a cell phone 2) Always know directions before you leave 3) Never go to Crazy Horse. Ever.

*Dressed for the club: To don the apparel of a common street hooker.

What A Boob

One of the funnier images following a Google search for 'push-up bra'


So yesterday I went to Banana Republic and bought a new outfit. I just cannot resist the temptation of clothing, it seems. I decided to be a bit daring for once and bought a shirt that comes so low in the front and back that it requires either no bra, or an invisible one. Thus began my quest to find an invisible bra ( You can find a photoraph of the invisible bra below, or maybe you can't... Hence the name).

It was already past 10:00 P.M. by the time I decided that I absolutely had to accomplish this mission immediately, and there being no 24-hour Victoria's Secret in Jacksonville (though there DAMN WELL SHOULD BE... for lingerie emergencies such as this) my only choice was Wal-Mart. Yes, I said it. I went to Wal-Mart to find a bra. Luckily, there was a small selection of little suction-cup type coverings all for the very fair price of $6.00. I grabbed a set labeled 'push-up', pausing to contemplate the Vicki's Secret slogan 'Even Angels need a little lift'. So off I went, to the check-out counter. Now let me say, I'm not usually an extremely shy gal when it comes to purchasing feminine necessities, but carrying that horrid, hot pink, Power-Puff-Girl-Flower sprinkled, little box with the label 'Water Push-Up' on every damn side... well, I felt myself longing to shrink more and more. I simply walked up to the first register I saw, which, lucky for me, had but one man in line. Surely my turn would come quickly, and the indiscrete box of pure pink evil would be tucked away safely in a bag (along with my dignity) before the man of my dreams or an ex-boyfriend could walk up!

I soon found out, though that the thirty-something black man donning the lime-green pimp suit in front of me had about 600 items of clothing to purchase. I eyed the empty line beside me, but was frozen in fear of being spotted by the imaginary hot guy I'm always waiting for... and ladies, you know the hot guy only comes when you're in an embarrassing situation or having a bad hair day; so I gritted my teeth and waited. After what seemed an eternity, he finally finished up, but right as I was getting ready to step up to the plate the cashier turns to me and asks "Are these your DVDs?" Before I could explain that no, as much as I fancy 'The Little Engine that Could' and am a huuge fan of Elmo's work, I was not, in fact, prepared to purchase either or... Lime Pimp (Limp, for short) broke in that they were his, and that he very conveniently wanted to pay for those seperately. Apparently he was the grim reaper in disguise, attempting to thwart me through my impatience and vexation. My time did finally come though, and believe-you-me, I ran the hell out of that Wal-Mart... Half anticipating an elaborate and highly publisized robbery in the parking lot. It would have been a very climactic ending anyway.

Anyway... I tried the things, and it just resulted in a full night of worrying that my breasts were going to fall off. I got greedy with the whole push-up thing - I think they were too heavy or something. Needless to say, I will not be returning to Wal-Mart to fullfill my next undergarment need. A girl has enough problems without having to worry about her breasts staying put.

I found these whilst searching Michael Jackson's name through Google images, though I can't figure out if I'm more frightened or entertained by these pictures. On seeing them I burst into short strings of maniacal laughter, followed by bouts of weeping... This pattern continued for a good ten-fifteen minutes. Anyway... Here you go: The Most Interesting Images of Michael Jackson found through Google.







I know that one isn't exactly Michael Jackson, but I still find it high-larious that
it kept popping up during the search.


















































































































































And my personal favorite for whatever reason...

Because I know that No One Who is Reading this is Cool

...For the simple reason that you probably know me.



78 Reasons to Hate Star Wars: Episode III
Only 78? A very intricate and humorous in-depth look.

Mucho Sucko :: Vader - Priceless!
An eerie glimpse into my future... Also the goddamn funniest thing I've ever seen. Ever.

Vader on Wheel of Fortune
I can't stop picking on this line.

Episode III: Handiwork - the WAREHOUSE
An extremely clever and interesting theory concerning Episode III.

MilkandCookies - Triumph vs Star Wars Geeks
Ugh. It's funny because it's soooo true.

NOOOller Coaster
Yes, a much more suitable placement of this line.

Something's Just Not Right Here

While I was doing research for my next blog concerning my conspiracy theory behind Michael Jackson's plastic surgery... I came across the most frightening picture on the face of the planet. Don't look directly at it... it might make you cry.

'War of the Worlds' Even If Without that.. First.. Part..

Taken on the set of 'War of the Worlds' shortly after Tom refused his fellow actors their anti-psychotics.
I just saw War of the Worlds (Look! I just plugged the film one time more than Tom Cruise ever did!) tonight... the only time that Tom Cruise has or will be likable for months. It was a Spielberg film, pure and simple... Except, for those of you who have seen it, Tripp brought up a very serious question: if all of the power and electronics in the area had gone out (which they were so bent on proving), how was that guy's camcorder still working?.. I'm taking this one up with Spielberg himself. Way to let continuity slip all for a semi-cool, 5 second visual.

Here's another quirky tidbit for you: the scene toward the beginning where Tom's character was attempting to persuade his friend, Manny, to get into the van... did anyone else notice that it was eerily similiar to the Matt Lauer interview from 'The Today Show'?


'War of the Worlds': "Manny, Manny, Manny... just shutup... Get in... Manny, Manny, Manny, Manny..." (and lots of overtalk)

'The Today Show': "Matt, Matt, Matt... You're glib... You don't know - I do. Matt, Matt, Matt, Matt, Matt.." (and lots of overtalk; but at least Matt Lauer didn't get utterly vaporized afterward... with the exception, maybe, of a few brain cells)

By the way... that's the funniest image of a person getting vaporized. Ever.

Just one more... I don't get the title... Even now. I hate to spoil the movie, but I didn't catch much warring going on. It looked more like Tom Cruise running away from giant, killer robots to me. A smelly-looking Robbins even manages to sneak the line "This is not a war! This is an extermination!" into the film at one point... He may have been crazy, but he makes a fine point. This, of course, caused me to turn to my fellow movie-watcher and raise the question "Then why is it called 'War of the Worlds'?" Way to make the title of the movie deceptive and meaningless.

The movie managed to prove one simple fact: Spielberg is indeed a sucker for a happy ending. He defied all logic and likelihood in order to give audiences that warm, tingly feeling. He truly is the king of all that is good and fuzzy.

I have to say that I loved the beginning. It starts out with a tone perfectly remnant of old, alien horror flicks, or any episode of 'The Twilight Zone'. Morgan Freeman's voice was chilling. The movie was like an unbalanced see-saw, with all of the weight placed on the first half... but I expected the heart-warming mushiness from Spielberg; it's almost a necessity now.

I just realized that "Way to..." is my favorite expression to use.

One Bad Ass African & a Pretty Cool Giant Monkey (No Correlation)

Well, they've discovered him: the biggest bad ass on the planet. This guy has to be the craziest son of a bitch in the world... Very The Ghost and the Darkness... Read this article, trust me... The title is nowhere near as cool as the events listed.

Thanks to Jason for the link..

Kenyan, 73, kills leopard with bare hands - Africa - MSNBC.com

I watched the trailer for Peter Jackson's new 'King Kong' remake... Thanks to Tripp for sending it to me. It looks very pretty (as is Jackson's way), and Adrien Brody actually strikes me as hot for the three seconds that they show him. Jack Black seems like he'll do a good job; he's got that 1930s Hollywood director thing down (and Tenacious D is AWESOME).. Though I saw a little more glossy CGI than I cared for, which I've become frightened of thanks to George Lucas and his new Star Wars (He's a CGI addict!.. and yes - that is an actual screenshot from Episode III; NOT a cartoon). I have to admit though, Peter Jackson used computer graphics very tastefully in 'The Lord of the Rings', and I'm sure he'll do the same here. I'm just wondering how they're going to pull off a love story between a giant monkey and a tiny blonde that will appeal to the modern-day audience. I hope it's not as squirmingly touchy as the original was.... Anyway, check it out for yourselves...

King Kong

The Evil that is Tom Cruise & The Wonder that is PS3

Just Begging to be Despised

It's official - I hate Tom Cruise and Katie Holmes, with placed emphasis on Tom Cruise. It's almost unfair to include the semi-innocent, yet wholly youthful Katie Holmes, since it's predominantly Tom's incoherent preaching and eat-shit-happy gloating which arouses such disgust in me, as well as so many others; but the fact still remains that she is his significant other (How could we forget that, when Tom so obligingly and constantly reminds us all?), and that she is one major cause of his recent maniacal behavior - unforgivable! She is also the only person who could put a stop to all of this madness, and yet she allows it to persist!.. but I digress; Ms. Holmes fades into the background like a dim lamp whenever Tom begins his ambiguous rantings. Did anybody catch 'The Today Show'? Matt Lauer is an angel for putting up with that lunatic... he attempted in every manner to salvage Tom's doomed dignity... even if the enemy was Tom's own mouth. As we all know, Tom admitted to being dyslexic last year, and as a friend of mine so slyly pointed out: maybe that's why he thinks he's right when he's just soo wrong :) In case you missed the shenanigans, here it is as posted on a weblog enhanced with random, amusing pictures...

You Can't Make It Up: Cruise UnControllable

Another high-larious interview was this one; will he ever stop making himself look like a douche bag?..

Dr. Cruise: I’m a helper. For instance, I myself have helped hundreds of people get off drugs. In Scientology, we have the only successful drug rehabilitation program in the world. It’s called Narconon.

SPIEGEL: That’s not correct. Yours is never mentioned among the recognized detox programs. Independent experts warn against it because it is rooted in pseudo science.

Dr. Cruise: You don’t understand what I am saying. It’s a statistically proven fact that there is only one successful drug rehabilitation program in the world. Period.

SPIEGEL: With all due respect, we doubt that. Mr. Cruise, you made studio executives, for example from Paramount, tour Scientology’s "Celebrity Center" in Hollywood. Are you trying to extend Scientology’s influence in Hollywood?

Dr. Cruise: I just want to help people. I want everyone to do well."


Just more irrefutable evidence that Tom is indeed a crazy person (in case you're not convinced http://www.gawker.com/news/tc7.jpg)... I won't even mention The Oprah Winfrey show, but I guarantee that Spielburg is pulling his hair out right now. I've been saying it, and I'll continue to say it... 'War of the Worlds' just isn't going to get the publicity that it deserves. Anytime it's mentioned all you can think about is Tom Cruise jumping up and down on a couch, and every time he's supposed to be out promoting the film he just ends up turning the conversation into a love sonnet for Katie Holmes or an advertisement for Scientology... the religion that the Washington Post described in the article, A Couch Tom Cruise Won't Jump On, as being "...founded, mind you, by a hack science fiction writer." If I were Spielburg, I'd have him killed for ruining my multi-million dollar, potential Blockbuster-hit film... All of that work, and for what?.. Each time we see Cruise's shit-eating grin we'll simply be reminded of how lovely Katie is, or how dangerous Ritalin is. I half expect that the next time I go to the theatre to watch a movie, and a 'War of the Worlds' preview comes on, that a man's voice will boom into the crowd "We now interrupt this trailer for an announcement by Tom Cruise..." then Tom will burst through the screen to yell in my face "I love Katie Holmes! Don't take NyQuil! Brooke Shields is evil!"

This was the final straw that broke the camel's back for me:
Tom Cruise Marches His Crazy Parade to ‘The View’

'Nuff said.





A Little Slice of Gamer Heaven

My sister stated in awe the other night that she would sell her soul to own one of these... and somehow - I don't blame her. Oh mighty and wondrous PS3! How you have proved your superiority against the upcoming Xbox360... admittedly created with the target area of forgotten gamers, also known as mothers and daughters. With a marketing technique like that one, I almost anticipate it to be bright pink and sport little bunny rabbits with purple flowers. PS3... How can one deny your sleek, futuristic cool?.. In three different colors, no less! I bet you could fly if you wanted to. For those of you who are not dorky enough to own a subscription to Game Informer (a very awesome magazine), I am supplying a link to a web page that has screen shots from the PS3, as well as a photo of the game system itself. I must say, though that the screen shots are much more impressive and crystal clear in the magazine. My advice is for you to get with it and subscribe.

Without further ado... I present to you the marvel that is the PS3...

PS3 Sceenshots

And if that wasn't enough to get you off... Well, then... you're just dead inside.


Thanks goes to Tripp for this link: Eat your heart out...

GameTrailers.com - Killzone 2 Media

What the New 'Amityville Horror' Can Teach Us about Americans... as well as a drive down I-10 W

Today, as I was driving home from Tallahassee, I thought to myself about people and life. The more I get to know people, the more I think about them, the more I believe that we really do all fall into those stereotypes which we dread so vehemently. Take American society for example: we have the attention span of a hyperactive kitten.
I saw 'The Amityville Horror' (Horrible) the other night, and though I anticipated its quality (in my defense, I was dragged to see it) and I already understood that it was going to be a pumped up version of the original with younger, better-looking actors, loud surprises, pointlessy gory moments, and a glitzy, roller coaster pace: it none-the-less got me thinking. I'm positive that this was an inadvertent effect on the movie's part, seeing as I doubt the creators were aiming for thought provocation when they shot scenes of whorishly-dressed babysitters sticking their fingers inside of dead little girls' bullet wounds.
It got me thinking about our need to constantly remake and modernize these days, especially, it seems, in film. We just can't seem to leave anything alone! The original 'Amityville Horror' was one of my favorites as a kid, as it was to many others... scary and suspenseful and gritty... it's a classic; but that's not good enough. "Too slow, too quiet, too little special effects, and too little ACTION!" cried the people... and the film world decided that they would take a good movie and inject it with film steroids: i.e. special effects, actors with abs, and lots and LOTS of blood. Though, I can't blame the filmmakers... they're just doing what we Americans do so well: take something that's already been done, give it a prettier package, and re-sell it to the public to make quadruple the amount that was made the first time around. I have heard approximately six people comment on how this was "an AWESOME movie... SO scary!" Personally - I giggled more than I shuddered. Unoriginal and shallow; the whole movie felt like modern-horror film routine. There's no such thing as real, honest suspense anymore... just being startled. All we do now in movies is have masked apparitions jump out from behind the couch and yell out "BOO!" Situations that aim for shock factor, but are only effective for milliseconds. This isn't real horror; these are cheap thrills. The Horror genre has become the prositute of the film world... giving the illusion of momentary pleasure, but leaving no deeper, long-term effects that measure up to anything... well, worth measuring.
The moral of this story is that you should NOT waste your money seeing 'Amityville Horror' though, I'm sure most of you could have figured that one out on your own... like I did, before I was forced to see it. I admit that my opinion IS a little biased, being that I am a fan of the original, and indeed originals in general... "if it ain't broke - don't fix it", I always say. I just wish we could learn how to leave things untouched, and not feel the constant desire to remake movies with the use of explosions and speed.

So, as I was saying before I got distracted by something else... The American attention span: my original topic. Driving home from Tallahassee I was reminded of warnings I had recieved from those who had made this drive many a time... warnings of boredom and hideous nothingness for the length of the drive. More than one friend has spouted his dislike for the two hour venture down I-10 West to me, and so as I first embarked on my journey I anticipated the most vapid hours of my life lay ahead in wait. I was surprised, though by how beautiful I thought the whole drive was. Fields and meadows and forests... wildflowers and lakes... nature at its best :) So this is nothingness? This is a void? Trees and rolling hills and pretty farmland? To we Americans, especially us youthful folk, this is nothing. Nature is nothing. I suppose it would be much more interesting if we tore it all down and built a couple of mini-malls or Wal-Marts or churches... much more interesting. I'd rather look at a parking lot than a babbling brook any day.
While I'm angrily rambling, let me mention the other thing that was irking me today about life. I was having a conversation with someone the other day about walking quickly. He said, in what I took as a jesting manner, that he hated "the journey" and it was the destination which was important. I find myself walking speedily whenever it is that I walk, and definitely speeding to the extreme everywhere that I drive... so I started wondering if that was a sign that I agreed with his statement, and that I too unconsciously hated "the journey". I thought about this too during my Tallahassee drive, since I had two hours to just sit inside of my head. I looked down at my speedometer which read around 90 miles an hour, and contemplated the fact that we're all of us always in such a hurry to get everywhere. As Ellen Degeneres once pointed out, we're all trying to save time as though we can tuck it away somewhere in a pile to be used at a later date. Time can't be saved - we all know that, it just seems like we forget it sometimes. We spend all of our time saving time, and running around everywhere missing everything that means something... like the trees and the meadows and the lakes on I-10: the world that surrounds us. Then, when we do have time, we spend it tirelessly attempting to fill it with something. We take trips to different places with the intentions that our life won't pass us by without having something meaningful in it. So we go places... vacations and road trips and weekend getaways, but we spend all of our time simply trying to save more time... and worrying about the fact that Monday is right around the corner and that the place you're at now will soon be not but a fond memory. So even when we go places, we're not really there... we're somewhere far away in our heads... worried about things that won't matter in the end, and worried about the time that we've lost and saved. So what does it all matter anyway? These weak attempts at stuffing our lives with something more exciting and meaningful don't work because we don't know how to live in the moment... as cheesy as that sounds. We're always in another time... "I remember when..." or "I can't wait to..." Then we think that we can find the one person that puts us where we belong: in the moment... Or we think that we can find the one place that makes us feel that the current moment is the one worth living in... so we spend all of our time trying to find these things... Not that I'm the master on this subject; the only reason I'm mentioning all of this is because I can't stop feeling that way. The only moments I appreciate and really live in are the ones that I know will be lost... like talking with someone who I know I can't stay long with. At least I have moments like that at all. Though they do pass by too quickly, it's better they be shortlived than non-existant.

Wow - this is some SERIOUS rambling... I apologize to whomever took the time to read this blog... Look at how much of it you've wasted!