Contest Update #3

Nope. Nothing again. Which, after three weeks and three opportunities to win at least the shitty door prize I'm starting to get disheartened. But, as my last post said, I'm not a lucky person. Never have been, never will be. (I guess, there are some things I could probably count as luck but I won't go into them here).

I guess I could say I'm not lucky when it comes to money. Pretty much all my money I have to work for, and it seems, work hard for very little. Hell, even winning the smallest monetary prize the lot has to offer would help tremendously but alas, fate does not favor me.

I will continue to put in my contest tickets, if only because I'm taking the bus anyway and at least I'm saving oodles of money on gas, which I haven't had to buy in over two weeks, so I've got that going for me.

Tomorrow Is Contest Day

So tomorrow is another announcement for the contest winners, I have no idea if I will even win one of the shitty door prizes but I think I'm due for one. If I'm really lucky I'll win some big bucks but I've come to realize that I am not a person who luck favors. I've never really been "lucky", everything I've earned I had to work for so I guess winning money should be no exception. I wonder what it would be like, however, to win the big bucks. It'd certainly help with paying the bills and such, then again, so would a better job and I haven't seemed to be lucky at landing one of those either. I dunno, maybe it's just not my year because I was hoping the second half of 2008 would be better than the first but it seems like it's just the same old thing and I may be in for a craptacular year overall. *sigh*

Contest Update #2

So, uh, yeah. NOTHING again this week, not even the shitty door prize and this time I got the full five days. I'm going to give this two more weeks before I declare the contest rigged.

And the Darwin Award Goes To...

Spokane man accidentally shoots self in face.

Way to go, Billy Bob.

Contest Update

So on Tuesday the lot I work for had the drawing for the winners of the first week of their save gas/parking spaces contest. They drew the names on Tuesday morning but decided it was too much trouble to write them out and post them online so they waited until 1 in the afternoon on Wednesday (today). Sadly, on this inaugural outing I didn't win anything.

Not. One. Thing.

I didn't even win one of those crappy cheap lot prizes that they had an abundance of.

I am not deterred, however. I will continue to ride the bus, if only because it really does save me on gas. And I will continue to drop in my contest tickets, if only because I'm riding the bus and might as well anyway. There are still plenty of weeks to win at least a shitty lot prize and in the end even if I don't win anything I will still have the reward of saving the environment. And the lot's parking spaces.

Again?

This is usually Kenny's territory (see; Fat People Are Beneath Contempt) but after witnessing the awfulness that is the Disaster Movie trailer I must say we need to call a cessation on all these [Insert Genre Here] Movies. Or, if only to make the writers actually earn the laughs, limit the references to the movies that, you know, actually FIT THE GENRE. Hannah Montana and Sex and the City might be topical but they have absolutely nothing to do with disaster movies and everything to do with laziness. And the poster is just stupid.

Incentives

I am currently working on a major studio lot. Yesterday, when driving to this lot I was stunned to find myself having to drive all the way to the roof to park, as it was 8:50a.m. and lack of parking spaces usually occurs for the slackers who arrive after 9:30a.m.

Now, I don't often drive, which will become an important tid bit momentarily. But twice a week I do drive because I go to my gym in the morning and then shower and head to work. It's good for me because it's first thing in the morning when I actually have the energy to even think about exercising. Anyway, I head into the lot and discover why there are almost no parking spaces so early in the morning: The lot is operating at full capacity. Every single stage is being occupied and will be through till fall.

You can imagine how difficult this will become for many people, especially the lot itself but they have come up with a way to dissuade drivers from driving their car to the lot:

Though good ole' American competition.

Our lot is having a weekely giveaway, only eligible to people who use "alternate" means of transportation to get to work. That's carpool, bike, bus or, god forbid, walking.

Now revelation that I only drive to work twice a week becomes important: I'm already using public transportation to get to work. I've got the bus pass and everything!

Since I use the buss and I'm already in the system I got my little ticket vouchers that you turn in every day to show that you've not polluted the earth or taken up precious space in the parking garage. And every week there will be a drawing for one of five awesome prizes, the biggest of which is over a grand.

So I'm going after that weekly grand prize. Though I missed yesterday I will from now on be taking the bus to work and home every day and hitting the gym nearer to my apartment at night (which will be totally hard as I'm super tired at the end of the day and the bus doesn't exactly help). Every week I will log on to post and let you know if and what I've won.

Wish me luck!

R.I.P. Stan Winston

It's hard to process my feelings right now on this incredibly sad news. I didn't know the man personally, wasn't anything more than an avid fan of his work but I find myself extremely sad now. Stan Winston was one of the best special effects artists of his, and especially our time. As special effects gear more and more toward what can be created in a computer Stan Winston stood above as someone who could actually build a creature and bring it to life.

Were it not for Stan Winston I wouldn't have been scared out of my mind watching John Carpenter's The Thing. Were it not for Stan Winston my mouth wouldn't have hung open in total awe and disbelief as the T-1000 pulled it's liquid metal form from the floor of the mental institution that housed Sarah Connor, or I wouldn't have felt the urge to cry along with Dr. Ellie Sadler as she (and I) saw the might of the Brontosauruses as they grazed in the field of Jurassic Park. Had it not been for Stan Winston, the Predator would have been nothing but a goofy faced failure, but Winston, called in at the last minute, took a fateful plane trip with James Cameron who goaded his friend's artist rendering by quipping, "You know, I'd like to see something with mandibles," and Winston took the challenge and it lead to one of the greatest ugly motherfuckers of my generation. Winston also had a hand in the Predator's greatest nemesis, improving upon an already existing concept by designing the queen alien in Aliens, which to this day is my all time favorite film. And, while he didn't design it himself, Winston took a turn behind the camera to direct Pumpkinhead, another all time favorite, which to this day I cannot watch late at night because it's still a guarantee to give me nightmares.

I personally had hoped to work with Stan Winston one day, as he was at the top of my list to design and make the things I write that go "bump" in the night. I am saddened that I will never get this opportunity to work with him personally and he and his creations will be deeply missed. His last turn in creating awesome designs came with Iron Man and he should be deeply proud that that is the last stamp he left on the world. Iron Man was a better movie for having him build the suit instead of leaving it all up to computers.

Rest in peace, Stan Winston. You will be greatly missed.

The Homoerotic Jokes Write Themselves...

So I don't have to.

Something You'll Probably Never Hear at Your Job, Part Two

"I'm going to need you to photocopy your ass."

And there is a second part to this which I believe I can safely say you will NEVER hear at your job:

"Okay, I need you to do it again but this time lift your sac."

Yeah. Film and television is awesome.

Gainfully Employed (Again)

I got a job!

And it's not from temping!

As you may or may not have guessed from the post below, I have a new job back in the "entertainment" industry. Now, I don't put "entertainment" in quotes because I'm working in porn, I haven't fallen that far yet but it's close.

I got a job working on a reality television show (though I probably should have put "reality" in quotes). I had a friend who was completely overworked and she needed an assistant in post production and I needed a job and we came together like peanut butter and chocolate. I got a job working on a major studio lot and she got the help she needed.

I'm not sure how long this will last, I'm guessing for a while since there doesn't really seem to be any kind of legit work on television shows but we'll just have to wait and see. I'll at least have a job for the next three months which is a great weight from my financially loaded shoulders.

All in all, I'm grateful to have the job and I am learning stuff about post production so I guess it'll come in handy somewhere down the line.

Something you'll probably never hear at your job:

"I'm going to go look at prostitutes."

Mind you this is an edited clip he's talking about reviewing, but still.

The Times, They Are A Sucking

I try to be a positive person. I try not to air my dirty laundry, even though about three people will read it. I try to be a good person but it can be trying at times and these are one of those times.

I got rejected on yet another television show job this morning, one that a few people I considered allies were working on. They said they loved me and they were keeping me in mind. I'd hoped I'd at least be considered for a writer's assistant job but in the end even that went to someone else. It seems as if the studios are cutting budgets and that's heavily affecting the hiring of writing staffs, as they don't have the money to hire as many as they would have had the writers strike not happened. It would seem that this is a kind of payback from the studios and producers, a final "Fuck you" to the people who thought they could stand up to the conglomerates. But not only is affecting the writing staffs themselves, it's affecting people like me who weren't already in at ground level.

Because I have not "officially" been on staff (i.e. hired as a staff writer) I am considered to have no experience even though I've been in two different writers rooms. Even though the main thing you're doing in the writers room is tossing out ideas and eventually writing a script, which is sad considering that despite having never been paid to write a script I have actually written several.

I could try to keep hope that something, some kind of last minute reprieve from the fairy job governor but after eight months I just don't have the energy or the desire to hope anymore. I have to face the reality that it might be a good, long year before I can even try for staffing again. As we come to June the opportunities become nill to none, or, as my hero Bruce Campbell so eloquently put it in Army of Darkness: "You ain't leading nothing but jack and shit. And Jack left town."

It seems dear readers, that for me, Jack has left town.

How the Hell Did This Happen?

No, seriously, how the hell did this happen? That cow looks like it could eat me.
Source.

We're All Gonna Die

I for one will welcome our robot overloards. Then again, hopefully I will just get to experience sex with robots and die before they gain true artificial intelligence and kill us all.

Times Is Hard

It's taken me a while to come out and publicly admit this but right now times suck.

I know, I know. That should be obvious.

At first I thought it was just me, toiling away in a seemingly endless, incredibly boring temp job but I'm finding out from a lot of other people I know that it's rough out there for everyone. For some, they'd take comfort in the fact that you aren't alone, and a small part of me does. However, if times are hard for everyone and they're hard for people who are at a higher career level than I am, what does that mean for me?

Right now it means I'm stuck in a job I don't like. It means I have to face the possibility I won't be staffed this season. It means I will have to find some other long term job I can tolerate, or else the next time you hear about me it will be because I was at the top of a clock tower picking off pedestrians.

But lets hope against that.

WTF

Seriously, what is it with food and beverage companies mixing lime into everything? Did no one learn from Coke?

Get Back On the Bus

I know I've been awol for a while and there's a very good reason for that: I work with old people.

What I mean by that is exactly what I said. I work with old people in my new, open ended temp job, and old people like to get up early to go to work which means I have to get up early to go to work with them. I know most people wouldn't bat an eye at having to work at 7:30a.m., however, I am not one of those people. I'm used to being at work at 9a.m. max which means I get up at 8 instead of 6a.m. Not since grade school have I remembered why 6a.m. is such an unholy hour. No matter what time I go to be, no matter how many days I continue to get up at 6a.m. my body refuses to get used to it and every morning it like an electric shock to the system when the alarm goes off.

While working with old people means getting up well before God, it also means having my afternoons back, as I'm getting home by five instead of having to leave at six. I can swing by the gym and still have time for a few hours of writing at night. So I got that going for me.

What I also got going for me is a bus ride. You see, to get to the the job where I work I can take one bus to and from, which I've tried doing for a week and it's saved me a crap load in gas. I didn't want to have to ever ride a bus in L.A. again, but circumstances, mainly the price of gas, have forced me to reconsider. It's not too bad, like I said, it's once bus and I get there on time and the wait to go home doesn't take that long either. And at that time of day there are no weirdos (thus far) riding along with me, though on the first day for some reason the bus smelled like hot vinegar. Ewwwwwww.

While I enjoy (and I use that term loosely) having a steady gig I honsetly don't know how much longer I can work there. I've been doing a lot of paper shredding for the company and eventually I will run out of paper to shred, no matter how deliberately slow I go (quite frankly, I should have finished a full week ago)and also because the job is so non-mentally stimulating. I straddle a chair for seven hours and feed paper into a shredder. Luckily for me I can bring my iPod and I've been enjoying episodes of Frisky Dingo to help pass the time but I'm going to run out of those as well.

Here's hoping there's a light at the end of the tunnel that isn't a train and I'm going to be back on a show soon.

Review: Dragon Wars

"Mr. Madison, what you've just said is one of the most insanely idiotic things I have ever heard. At no point in your rambling, incoherent response were you even close to anything that could be considered a rational thought. Everyone in this room is now dumber for having listened to it. I award you no points, and may God have mercy on your soul."

That apt quote from Billy Madison pretty much sums up how I felt after suffering through the utter shite that is Dragon Wars. I know, I know, I Netflixed a goddamn movie called Dragon Wars for Pete's sake, I got what I deserved. However, when reading the title, and even watching the previews I thought the film was going to be about, you know, FUCKING DRAGONS WARRING.

That was painfully NOT the case. Oh there was a "fight" and I'm being generous in that description, but there was no WAR. And they didn't even really look like dragons, just over grown serpents. I know Korean culture has their own mythology but you'd think they'd at least add, I dunno, legs or wings to the fucking things. Otherwise, it don't get to count.

Because there were no dragon wars in a film titled Dragon Wars, that left plenty of room for Teh Stupid, and yes, "the" is misspelled deliberately in this case. I'm not going to get into all the details of Teh Stupid, only to say that even I was slightly offended that in the beginning there was a Korean prince/warrior who was trying to protect a young Korean maiden, cut to the present and we've got Robert Forester, who, despite his mild resurgence in Jackie Brown, I still recognize as the guy from Alligator. Robert is telling this Korean legend to this little boy and for a moment I'm allowed to believe that this is going to be a Princess Bride style film where grandpa is entertaining the kiddy. That was not the case. What was the case was the absurd notion that grandpa was the reincarnation of the Korean Zen master to the little boy's reincarnation as the Korean prince/warrior. Why the director, who is Korean, did this I will not know but I didn't need another dooey-eyed white boy saves the world story.

And he didn't really save the world. The majority of the plot revolved around him and the reincarnation of the maiden, now a blond, blue-eyed native of Los Angeles, running from the giant snake (I refuse to call it anything else) to a car, the car stalling or getting into an accident, them running some more with the giant snake right behind them and apparently unable to gain enough thrust, despite it's hugeness, to run them down and eat them. They would reach another vehicle, either a car or in one case a helicopter, and something would happen to it and they'd have to get out and run away again. The film did end, thankfully, but I honestly have no recollection of what happened besides the re-incarnated white girl dying, or "ascending", and then a "good" giant snake flying around in the air for no apparent reason as the white boy looked on in awe. Perhaps it was too much shitty for my poor brain and I blocked it out.

You could guess that at a certain point I gave up on this film, and you'd be right. It was an incredible waste of time and I can't believe I re-activated my Netflix subscription for it. Well, at least I have Hitman to look forward to.

Rick Astley Must Be So Proud

The Shredder

So, last week I went without work for four days and ended up wallowing in a well of my own self pity (all the while writing throughout this self pity). I got work on Friday, which, while a piddly check is better than no check at all, will almost seem not worth it once I confirm that what I made on that Friday was spent on the gas driving to and from the job. Joy.

This week I've had two days of work and an industry meeting that only served to remind me of how badly I want to get back into the entertainment game. So no self pity. Well, for the most part no self pity. You see, this week I'm working for a bank that is in desperate need due to it's short staff. What are they in desperate need for? A shredder. More specifically, someone to stuff old checks into their industrial sized shredder. Because everyone else is to busy to do this, with all the other check stuff going on.

And because this is a bank, but not the bank, merely one of the offices of the bank, there are old people working there. And old people like to get up early and go to work early, so that means I have to get up early and go to work early. No 9a.m. start for me, nuh-uh. I gotta be on the job by 7:30a.m. Seven. Fucking. Thirty. For those of you who have to be to work as, or even earlier, and are going, "So?" 'cuse the shit out of me but that fucking sucks. God's not even up by 7:30a.m. and even though I was behind the wheel of what can be considered heavy machinery I'm not either. It's pretty much autopilot down Olympic Blvd and then somehow I become aware there's a valet asking me to please get out of my car so he can park it.

Then it's on to the bank where I've been put into a little cubicle with said shredder and I grab a box of old checks down from the shelf and go to town, feeding the checks into the shredder on an endless loop of monotony and boredom. Not only that, but the old people at the bank were ill prepared for my duties, as, on the first day, we ran out of shredder lube (yes, there's a lube for shredders) and proper sized disposal bags. That meant that ever so often, say, about every twenty to thirty minutes, when the light for lube would illuminate I had to shove these weird sponge papers into the mouth of the shredder, to keep the teeth from grinding against each other and possibly exploding (I was not told what exactly would happen if the shredder teeth didn't get lube but it was implied that it would be bad and there may be smoke involved). Add to that, the indignity of having to transfer shredded paper by hand from the square bin of the shredder to a regular trash bag, because they were out of the shredder bin bags. I'm sure the cleaning people hate me by now because there's always a big mess when I leave, no matter how I try to scrape up bits and pieces of paper from the carpet.

The trash bags aren't big enough to fit over the mouth of the bin so I have to just shovel the paper from one place to the next by hand. This would seem easy enough but if you've never tried shoveling shredded paper then you have no idea what it really entails. You can't grab too much because then it will just spill out every where and the cleaning people will hate you because now they've got to actually vacuum the carpet. You can use smaller handfuls, but then you'll be bent over the trash bin and that means you'll have to inhale god-knows-what kind of ink chemicals as you do it. I had to do the latter and driving home today my throat was sore and now I'm sure there's a cancer growing in my lungs. I realized today that if I wear my shades while cleaning the bin that minimizes the amount of paper particles that can make a break for my eyes (and thus blind me by cutting into my contacts) and tomorrow I'm taking a head bandanna to cover my nose and mouth.

"Tomorrow?" you say, "You're going back tomorrow?"

Yes, yes I am. Why am I going back tomorrow? Because I need the work. And god knows this job is making me hate how much I need the work. Or how much I need to money so that I can feed myself and pay bills. Not only am I going back tomorrow, but I'm trying to extend my stay till the end of the week to ensure I have a full week's paycheck. Unlike last week where I lounged around like a lazy bum, reading books and writing and making no money to pay my bills. I discovered today that if I stretch it out right, I can make one full box of old checks last five hours, and if I put the paper in the bins right it actually looks like I've done a lot of work, as one non-old bank employee commented today. Later on in the day I speed things up, and by the time I leave at 4p.m. I've got three boxes done (when, I probably could do the entire shelf in a day if I applied myself) and with all the regular trash bags I've used up it looks like I've done a helluva lot of shredding.

The problem is first thing in the morning from 7:30a.m. till 10:30p.m., which seems like the longest span of time ever. Pretty much after lunch I'm free to stuff the hell out of the shredder and go as fast as I please, but not too fast, so that I can have a reason to come back another day. But it's terrible work, and almost disheartening. And yet, I persist in doing it. Not because I want to, but because I have to. *sigh*

Boob Tube

I was a fan of Saturday Night Live. Though a lot of people said it sucked in the later Adam Sandler years, I came up in the sort of "resurgence" era of Will Ferrel, Chris Kattan ("You can't hava da Mango!), Cheri Oteri, Ana Geystar, Tim Meadows, and the rest of that bunch. I would say it probably started to do downhill when they hired Jimmy Fallon but that's just my theory.

Pretty much after that bunch made the ship jump for greener (read: wealthier) pastures in film I stopped watching. Really, what could top the "I need more cowbell" sketch? Not to mention those early Mango and Mr. Peepers sketches were hilarious. Did you see the first SNL The Rock hosted? Frakkin' hilarious!! But I digress.

I've been watching SNL recently on and off because every time I don't the next Monday I would find out from coworkers I missed something funny. So I slowly started watching it again and there would be some funny things, such as the D*ck in the Box digital short, but most of the time they ended up like Laser Cats, which was never funny to begin with.

This long introduction is actually for something very short. I was watching the latest SNL, hosted by Aston Kutcher, and I have to say that in all of the SNL episodes I've seen that opening monologue had to have been the absolute worst thus far. It was embarrassingly bad and I felt embarrassed for all involved, including a cameo by Demi Moore that wasted what no potential she had.

I almost turned it off then but how could I miss the genius that is Andy Samberg's latest digital short. D*ck in a Box it wasn't. It wasn't even S*it in a Box and all the written "apologies" they were doing didn't help anything at all. Perhaps someday this generation will get their Will Ferrals and Chris Kattan's, but I doubt it. Then again, that could be the nostalgia talking.

Give the Kid the Damn Pa-sickie!

Normally, I don't find the inane babble of babies cute, often times I find myself wondering just when the hell they're going to learn the English language. Just the other day I was in the laundry room where this toddler was doing her damnedest to recite the ABCs on an endless loop and was totally just making noises that sounded like the letters, but they actually weren't the letters, and after the upteeth go round I wanted to yell, "G! it's a fucking G!!! A.B.C.D.E.F. motherfucking G!!!!" least of all not the other letters the kid didn't get, such as H,I,J,K,L,M,N,O,P,Q,R,S,T,U,V,W,X,Y and Z.

Anyway, I was surprised to find myself even so much as taking a look at this video, let alone enjoying it. It truly is very cute, especially when the kid thinks he's (she's?) going to get the pa-sickie but the mother just teases her (him?) to get him (her?) to say the word a few more times.

Parents can be so cruel.

Play This Game Now

Seriously. It will change your life.

Balls of Crap is More Like It

I some way, some how put Balls of Fury into my Netflix queue and I have no idea why. Perhaps at some point I had the thought it might be worth watching put it there and forgot to ever take it out. I usually don't look into my queue unless I'm adding films. Okay, enough excuses, but let me just say I was surprised when I got my recent set of films and Balls was one of them.

The film is awful, that's all that really needs to be said. I didn't laugh once throughout the whole thing and it seemed like it was trying desperately to be the next Dodgeball (a film I did find enjoyable, if only for the stupidity). But there's no stupidity to find amusing in Balls, especially since you see every single scene worth seeing in the previews. Quite frankly, I was happy when it was over and I stopped it before it got to the end credits. Save your intelligence and your time.

Thoughts on Battlestar

Hmmm. I find myself in an interesting position because I love the show, however this season premiere wasn't as exciting as the two part season three premiere Occupation/Precipice and then Exodus Parts one and two.

Don't get me wrong, the first half was awesome, full of the character and action drama I love. There were space battles, people yelling in CIC and the angst of the newly revealed four Cylons trying to figure out what the hell they were going to do and if they were going to fuck something up. And then Kara Thrace, a.k.a Starbuck, came back and it all went to hell with the "is she/isn't she" a Cylon storyline and her whole, "I can take you to Earth if only you'll let me take you to Earth". Okay, that was interesting and it will be fun to see how all this "Is Starbuck leading them to their doom?" plays out, hopefully before winter 2009.

SoClose

So You Can Catch Up Before Tomorrow

The Five are close...

And I'm Probably Going to Look Like an Asshole

Today while I was hanging out at the 3rd Street Promenade, spending money I shouldn't and avoiding rush hour traffic on the 10, I happened upon two gentlemen who were shooting interviews for some summer episodes of Deal or No Deal, while waiting to cross the street. They asked myself and a mother/daughter pair if we'd like to be filmed for a segment on one of the contestants and all three of us were like, "sure, what the hell," mostly for me because I didn't have shit else to do besides wait for the interstate to clear.

The segment was simple: they would show us two photos of different kinds of hair and we were to pick which ones we liked the best. They would hand us said photos, we would look at them, then turn them around to show them to the camera. All three of us thought that would be simple enough. The mother and daughter went first and in order to keep my response spontaneous I avoided looking at the mother and daughter as they did their bits. Perhaps I should have looked.

When it was my turn I was asked to remove my jacket because it had my graduate alma mater's logo on it and then I was placed in front of the camera and handed the two photos face down. I turned them over and it was a photo of a small dog, perhaps Yorkie or something, I don't know the breed because I don't like small dogs and don't keep up with their goings on, but the dog had all this hair everywhere and it was wrapped in bows. The other photo was of a young black woman with super blue eye contacts, way to much makeup and a hair do I can only describe as "ghetto fabulous". The hair was long in the back and sides but the top was done in this awful spiked fashion, like a mohawk that just said "fuck it" and tried to make a run for it in a whole bunch of different directions. It was a bad hairstyle is what I'm saying.

So I picked the dog. I picked the dog on the grounds that the dog had no choice in the matter, but the woman did and I couldn't understand who would want hair like that voluntarily.

There were a bunch of laughs and the camera turned off and we were told the woman would be one of the contestants for a mid-June episode. Having signed a waiver I went on my merry way, hitting my car because it was after 7pm and the ten should (and was) be clear. But it was in my car that that little Jimminy Cricket, my conscious, hopped upon my shoulder and began whispering in my ear. And I actually started to think about what I'd just participated in.

Aside from the fact that it's a shitty game show, I began to wonder why the producers thought it would be funny to compare a black woman to a dog. Mind you, they were comparing her hair, but whatever. I know it's supposed to be "funny" because it's in the extreme, and comparing her to another wild black hairstyle, or even one considered "redneck" (mullet!!) would have been like comparing apples and oranges, but still. A dog? At this point I started to grind my teeth, but more from guilt than the fact that I was still stuck in traffic on Lincoln Blvd.

And then little Jimminy asked my why they should even care about her hair style. Of course it's out there. It's wild and something white people aren't used to seeing but should they really make fun of her for it? I don't watch Deal or No Deal at all so I have no idea how many of these segments they do but I can only hope that they find something to make fun of everyone for and they're not just singling her out. When we were at the Promenade the mother asked why she even had such hair and the guy said she (the woman with the hair) did it because she wanted it that way and she owns it. Sitting in my car, recapping this in my mind I thought "Good for her" mostly because I wanted to absolve some of my guilt.

Then I asked Jimminy why I even felt guilty. "She had shitty hair!" I defended.

"But she's black," Jimminy replied. "You shouldn't be mean to other black people, especially other black women."

"Why the fuck not?" I demanded.

"Because you're black," Jimminy said with infinite patience.

"Oh," I said, realizing he was right.

I was black. And she had been black and it might look bad me dissing another black woman's choice of hair, especially since I was rockin' the au natural look on camera and my hair was an explosion of curls. Then the light turned green and I managed to make it to the turn off for the 10 (which was awesomely devoid of rush hour traffic) but as I accelerated off the ramp I still wondered just why I had to feel bad. Yes, she was black and I was black but that's as far as our similarities go. I don't owe her anything just because we have the same skin tone. It occurred to me that white people probably don't have to face this dilemma and perhaps I was thinking to hard about something silly. She had stupid hair for Christ's sake!

Did she deserve to be made fun of for it? I don't know. Was the segment juvenile? Most definitely. Should I not have participated in it? Probably not. But don't think I won't be telling people from now until June, "I might be on Deal or No Deal!" and then we'll see how it plays.

For Your Edification...

PART ONE:



Annnnnnd, PART DEUX:




There will be a quiz after...

Thought While Watching the Butchered, Network Version of "Disturbing Behavior":

Goddamn James Marsden is hot.*

(*but he still looks nothing like a high school student.)

Battlestar Day Two

I know I should be counting down but I'm far too tired after a full (and overtime) day of mind numbing (and I do mean mind numbing) work. You're lucky you got that sentence out of me. Don't expect much tomorrow either, because I'm going back to do the same thing. Instead, just enjoy the antici---

(SAY IT!!!!)

Pation. ;) (for those not in the know, see: Rocky Horror Picture Show).

Countdown to Battlestar Galactica

Battlestar Galactica is one of those rare, excellent, almost perfect TV shows that come every once in a blue moon. It's the kind of show I have to watch with my full attention, the first time it comes on, despite the fact that I would have to watch with commercials. It's the kind of show where you can overlook the commercials because you have to see what's going to happen right then and there. It's the kind of thought provoking, entertaining and fan obsessed show I dream about creating one day.

I wasn't a fan of the original show this version sprung from, like Athena from zeus' head, but I did watch it with my dad, marveling at how bad the original was. When it was announced that there was going to be a redo I questioned why anyone would bother, but that was the extent of my objection. I know there were some die hard fans of the original who shit a brick at the thought of the show being redone at all, and then tore their intestines out at the thought that Starbuck, the man whore of the original, was being turned into a woman. While I wasn't upset by that at all, I will admit I was disappointed that Boomer, a black man in the original, was being turned into an Asian woman. We already lack black characters on TV and that was one that I personally felt could have been left alone.

When the mini-series debuted, like every one else I drank the punch and got in line for my sneakers. The only difference with this was that the punch was good, phenomenal in fact and we all wanted more. I was happy to see that the mini-series was going to be turned into a full series show and not just because it meant I was going to be seeing more of Jamie Bamber's Apollo (hawt).

The first season, much like the first season of Friday Night Lights (another show I'm madly in love with)was pitch perfect, culminating in one of the most captivating season cliff hangers since the Starship Enterprise found out Picard had been turned into Locutus of Borg (for me that was the first time as a kid I ever looked forward to fall, just to find out what the hell was going to happen). When Boomer, a sleeper agent for the Cylons, pulls out a gun and gut shot Commander Adama my mouth fell open and I actually yelled at my poor TV who couldn't have possible given me an answer to my primal scream of "What the fuck?" because that had to wait until the new season.

The second season came, and with it the amazing Pegasus storyline, brining in one of my favorite actresses Michelle Forbes (Go Ensign Roe!) as badass Helena Cain who wouldn't hesitate to put a bullet in your head. Sadly, she died and with her I think some potentially better storylines than the ones we got for the second half of season two, such as the much loathed Black Market episode, which pissed me off not only because it sucked but because no matter how many galaxies away they were, no matter the different culture of the humans, the evil pimp just had to be a black man, and Bill Duke to boot, which was just a damn waste of a fine actor. I was very disappointed in the episode and the casting choice was salt on a wound.

The end of season two pissed me off because of the utter stupidity of the characters, and I did not feel sorry for nary a one of them as the Cylons invaded their new home and created an occupation on New Caprica, but I realized that living in a country that voted for Bush twice, people can, and will be inherently stupid even when presented with evidence that what they're doing is stupid. I got over the abrupt "One Year Later" time jump, because that gave us the uber awesome season three two part opener where the fleet rescues the humans on New Caprica.

Season three, much like the second season of Friday Night Lights, was highly uneven, but still better than 99.999% percent of what's currently on TV (it's pretty had to distinguish when both shows are on at the same time, thankfully they're not). And that brings us to season four, which begins this Friday. I'm excited, needless to say, even though this is the final season of this awesome show. There will be Answers, and unlike certain other shows, *coughLostcough* they're going to address the big questions well before the last episode airs, like why exactly Col. Tigh is a Cylon.

For every day until Friday, when I'll be at a viewing party (my first viewing party non-work related for any show whatsoever) I'll try to post something Battlestar related, starting with the above promo. For some reason I get chills every time Starbuck screams, "You're going the wrong way!" partly because I want them to reach earth (even though I've been told they will) and partly because of what I saw in Razor, the TV movie where it was revealed that Starbuck will lead the humans to their doom.

Is it true? We'll have to watch to find out.

Oh My God

That Poor, Poor Bunny

Happy Easter

To Sarah, Re: Point Break Live

It seems one commenter I never knew I had has taken issue with my post on Point Break Live! Here's what "sarah" had to say:

Sorry, I'm absolutely fed up with the Keanu-bashing bullshit.


Kudos to you for seeing a joke in this, but all I see is Keanu struggling for the past 25 years working hard to be taken even a little bit seriously, while everyone else only concentrates on his less-than-great roles.
I don't want to be adding any more roadblocks in his path by seeing this.


Um, sarah, I hope this is a joke, but in case it isn't, allow me to retort:

"Roadblocks in his path?" Whiskey Tango Foxtrot, Jesus, Mary and Joseph, it's a SPOOF. It's a SPOOF of a film that's seventeen years old, and quite frankly was begging for satire. Not only that, but Keanu isn't the only one being spoofed, EVERYONE ELSE INVOLVED IN THE FILM IS AS WELL, from the director, to the cast, right down to the writer. This play won't have ANY affect on Keanu Reeves career. He makes between 10-15 million a picture now with one coming out in a few weeks, trust me, he's being taken seriously.

Kathryn Bigelow, the woman most responsible for the film, and one, if you recall, has an actress playing her, has even seen the play and she LOVED it. I don't know if Keanu has seen it but I doubt his feelings would be hurt.

I never bashed Keanu Reeves, sarah, and no one in the play bashes Keanu Reeves, they're poking fun at a CHARACTER who's name is JOHNNY FUCKING UTAH, who works for the FBI and has to SURF in order to catch criminals who dress up as the presidents of the United States and rob banks. So please, do us all a favor and calm the fuck down.

Point Break Live!

Those of you who know me from way back, that probably being only Lovey at this point, know that I have a mad, obsessive, almost inexplicable crush on Keanu Reeves. It's spanned a good portion of my life, and every second of my adolescence and teenage years. I've seen every film he's been in, going as far as to buy used VHS tapes of his earlier films, The Night Before, and Prince of Pennsylvania, true gems of cinema and totally worth the three dollars plus shipping and handling fees.

What brought me to this obsession with one of the finest, if not the best, actor of our generation? The film Point Break.

If you've seen Point Break, you need no explanation of its awesomeness. If you haven't, then I can only recommend that you rent it and experience the pure adrenaline rush that can only come from a film whose protagonist is named Johnny Utah and the antagonist Bhodi. I speak from experience when I say it's a life changing experience.

Which brings me to the fun I had this past weekend, partaking in what is quickly becoming a hot spot in Downtown L.A., called "Point Break Live!" It is what it says it is, a live rendition of the film Point Break. I was skeptical at first, but a few friends talked me into going and I must say, it was the most fun I've had all year and the most fun theater experience.

They have an actress playing director Kathryn Bigelow, and every performance she "auditions" people for the esteemed role of Johnny Utah. That's right, she picks them straight from the audience of the night and the fun multiplies from there. Once the "actor" is chosen, there's a P.A. (also an actress and the show's Johnny Utah stunt double) who has the Utah actor read from cue cards. This may sound bad, but I assure you it's not. I assure you it's a damn good time.

The stage is set up so that you're pretty much apart of the action whether you want to be or not. The actors playing the four presidents (if you don't know what I'm talking about then really, go see the film) run around in the audience stealing the fake money you get when you arrive. I was on my way to get another beer during one of these "heists" when one of them accosted me and made a kissy noise. It was weird and fun. At one point they also took out water guns and sprayed everyone down, which was fine since we'd been given cheap dollar ponchos to protect ourselves.

All around it was a good time, the bar is close to the stage and nothing enhances a good time like drinking! (unless you have a drinking problem, then that's not so fun) and it was relatively cheap fun in L.A. (tix only $20). Highly recoomended if you like theater (absurd or regular), surfing, movie spoofs, men in drag for no apparent reason, Keanu Reeves or fun.

That Toilet Paper Must Have Really Pissed Off That Cat

This is Fun and Informative

I got the count right but ultimately failed the test.

HAPPY ST. PATTY'S DAY MUPPET STYLE

HAPPY ST. PATTY'S DAY!!

Don't for get to drink some green beer on this momentous day. :)

What Did You Expect To Happen When You Actually Name Your Child "Speed Racer?"

Sheesh.

Technical Difficulties...

So, some of you who read this regularly might have noticed an influx of videos. What happened was, I'll usually post videos directly from YouTube, but for some reason it wasn't doing it as instantly as it normally did. And today, videos that I tried to post last week are for some reason popping up. I'll keep a handle on it.

A Video for the Day: The Life of a Writer

So, true. So, very, painfully true.

So's is Falling Off and Egg Beater!"

Gawd, I miss my childhood.

This is Appropriate...

Fitting at least. Love the headbanging from blond cello guy.

Not Down With the Neeley's

In my older age I'm becoming a Food Network addict. I say "in my older age" as a joke because over Christmas break my mom was surprised as hell to find out I enjoyed watching things like Rachel Ray's 30 Minute Meals, Diners, Drive-Ins, and Dives, and Iron Chef America. Even though she enjoyed watching it with me. She asked me if I was "old" because she thought only old people watched Food Network. Well, I set her straight on that one!

Over Christmas break I saw the ads for Food Networks new shows, one of which was Down Home With the Neeley's, a show about a black couple from Memphis who own several bar-b-que restaurants. I was happy to see a little diversity added to Food Networks line up, even more so because it was southern style bar-b-que cooking and I love to bar-b-que, even if it's only in my tiny kitchen.

Since the Neeley show was on at 11 am on Saturday morning I set my DVR to record it because there's no way in hell I'm up that early and even if I am it probably means I'm doing some kind of extracurricular work. I watch the show but I have to say I'm slightly disappointed. Not by the recipes, aside from the pork (which I don't eat unless it's bacon strips accompanied by pancakes) they've been good. What irks the hell out of me is the Neeley's themselves. This is a couples show, where both of them are cooking together and it's so saccharine I feel my teeth rotting out as I watch. Not only that, but they're always flirting with each other and I can't help but feel it's incredibly fake for the camera. You love each other, we get it. You want to jump each others bones over the cornish hens and creamed collard greens, we get it. He's always taking some of your "sugah," WE GET IT.

Now STOP IT.

Not only that, but they let the double entendres fly and I don't want to think about him buttering her ham while I'm watching them prepare food. It kills the mood, so to speak.

Not that the Neeley's are the only TV cooks I have a problem with. I can't really watch Paula Dean anymore because her liberal use of "y'all" makes me want to hurt her and anyone in the vicinity.

I still watch some of the Neeley show, but now if there's nothing I'm interested in I'll skip it, or if there is I'll go to food network's website and add the recipe to my recipe box (yes, I have an account at foodnetork.com). While it's nice that they are becoming more diverse, I just hope the next time food network picks someone less annoying.

This is Totally How I Feel Right Now

Enter the ICHC online Poker Cats Contest!

Note To Self...

Don't ever go out of the house to drive after 5pm. You will not get to where you're going for an hour and then you've got to drive back and guess what? It's still rush hour!

Oi. Learned that reminder the hard way when I thought I could make a quick run to the grocery store for some grub. Bad idea.

Though, while I was at the grocery store (after I finally made it) there were black men who were selling shoes, or at least trying to. I got a weird cat call where the lead guy was bellowing to women passing by, "Oh I KNOW you got a man!" and he would point to us. One girl had two men, I apparently had three. I don't know who or where these three men I supposedly have are but they are not getting shoes sold in a grocery store parking lot. And while I was in the store I witnessed the weirdest punishement of a child ever. An older black woman caught, who I believe (read: hope) was her grandson, sitting on the railing for the corral of the shopping carts. She pulled him down and very sternly said: "This is a repentance. I want you to repent." I was stunned. Partly because I was expecting her to swat his bottom right then and there and partly because that's got to be the most ineffective punishment ever. I feel for that kid cause he's either going to grow up to rebel in the most horrible way possible or he's going to pass that nonsense on to a new generation.

That Was Quick...

Be careful what you wish for. Then again, sometimes you get the things you were supposed to wish for but didn't have the courage.

That happened to me on my way home tonight, stuck in traffic on the 101. I was tired, burnt out and dreading the fact that I only had a few hours at home (a majority of which would have been spent sleeping) before I was back on the chopping block of boredom and anxiety that was my current temp job. And then I got a call from my coordinator. It seems that my services are no longer needed and I can't say I'm sorry to see it go.

I spent the first minute after receiving this news a little pissed, as I just bought an expensive dress (well, expensive for me) for a wedding later on this month and I needed to save money for that car. I had been planning on staying at this craptacular job until the end of the month but it seems fate has other plans for me. Right now those plans include drinking me a glass (or two) of wine and staying up past 11pm because now I don't have to get up at 6:45am.

I usually like to go by the campfire rule: leave things better than you found them, and I do pride myself on doing a good job but I think there was just no way to do that here. This company is relatively young but they've been around for seven years and are just now trying to get their administration department under control when people are used to doing things another way. I know this analogy is probably used way to much but this really was like trying to close the barn door after the horses got out.

Oh well. Now I don't have to cringe once the sun comes up and I don't have to dread getting out of bed. At least for now. While I enjoyed the money (what little there was) at least I get some piece of mind back. I realize that as much as we desperately need it, money isn't everything (so I say now, when I still have two more guaranteed paychecks coming to me) and when it's the only reason you're working (you know, as opposed to enjoying it) it can feel very empty and drain you, keeping you stuck in a job you hate. There comes a time where even prostitutes have to say no to money.

My friend called me to talk to me about it, after I'd texted her, and she told me I'd seemed very unhappy recently and she was happy that it was over. I didn't even realize that my unhappiness was spilling out that badly.Now it's over and I can celebrate, er, mourn, the loss of my hardly ever gainful employment. Cheers.

Thus Far...

Today has been a far better day than yesterday, knock wood, and I find myself not contemplating stabbing pens into people. Though I did discover today during my supply closet inventory that there are five extremely sharp Ginsu-type knives in the storage closet. Why? I don't know. I assume for cutting cakes or something but really, do you want such weaponry open to potential disgruntled employees? I'm not saying I'd do anything but I'm in the customer service department, any one of these people could go off from dealing with a stupid customer and take us all out with them. It's weird knowing that they're just hanging out in a closet and not in the kitchen.

In it for the Long Haul...Possibly

You ever get that sneaking feeling that you're supposed to be doing something else? While it could be for anything I am talking about in the "life" category of this conversation.

I will admit I had one opportunity for gainful employment in the TV business, however it didn't go through. While my heart wasn't set on getting this job, it would have offered me a way out of the doldrums that is the temp job I currently work for where I find myself giving less and less of a shit every single day, however that's possible. Is there a negative level of "can't give a shit"? Or does it become a point where "can't give a shit" reaches absolute zero and either doesn't exist anymore or has to reset itself?

I will probable have the answer to that in a few days/weeks, I don't even know. With no new prospects on the horizon I feel like I'm walking through the desert, hoping for a mirage if only to keep some shred of hope.

What brought this emotional state about? I realized today that I have become one of millions of Americans who has a Job That Pays the Bills. This is different from other jobs because it's a job you hate but you drag yourself out of bed every morning because there's rent to pay and perhaps next month you may in fact have to get another car because yours won't pass smog inspection and the local DMV is on to you and your addiction to their temp tags and has cut you off cold turkey.

But I digress...

I have such a job now and while I shouldn't bitch and moan about it, guess what, I will. I don't like this job. Not one bit. And in the short time I've been working there, it has come to the point where every morning I look out my window at the sun coming up over the apartment building across the way and go, "Fuck, it's morning," when instead I should be happy that I can even see dawn because it means I didn't randomly die in my sleep.

Here's the thing about me though, and I will be honest with you: I bitch about everything. Every single job I've had I bitched about, though for 99.99987% of those the bitching was warrented, as is the case here.

But even when I had a Job I Loved and I bitched about it, it was that good kind of bitching, like what you do for family or any loved one that annoys you and where you actually were getting a paycheck that would have been able to support, bills, rent and a car payment. God I miss it.

I hope I'm not here too long, I hope I can get back to the good bitching about my job. Really, I've only had one job where I didn't want to jab a pen in someone's neck and that was a wonderful feeling. Here, I see pens every where, and not just 'cause I'm stocking them in the supply cabinets.

To end this post I'll leave you with a quote from an episode of Futurama that happened to be playing exactly as I was writing this post:

"Isn't it time you gave up on any hope of improving yourself in any way?"

Nay, I say to you, Bender. Nay it's not. There is, and will always be May, and with it it will bring the Upfronts and potential Jobs I Love.

That Little Old Lady Had It Coming

So basically the Bible is one long acid trip?

Black Sheep

If you recall, this gem was one of the reasons I reactivated my Netflix account, because I just couldn't go another day without seeing for myself exactly what "weresheep" (think "werewolf" only they go "baa") were.

Well, as it turns out, I could.

I watched this and my god, I don't remember yelling "WTF" so many time through a movie. This even beat Spider-Man 3 for my whiskey tango foxtrot outbursts. There were some decent special effects, but man, those Kiwis are either imaginative beyond our capabilities or they need to lay off whatever it is that makes them come up with crap like this.

While I did watch the film, the only thing my brain can allow me to comprehend is that sheep who were experimented on go bad (when don't they) are eating people. One vegan hippie gets separated from his extreme vegan hippie girlfriend and gets himself bit by one of these weresheep and turns into a weresheep himself (when don't they). All hell breaks loose when a few other experimental sheep get loose in this quite little village (when doesn't hell break loose in one of these films, really now) and sheep start eating motherfuckers.

This sounds funny. It should have been funny. Sadly, it was only funny in spurts.

Naturally, as it happens in films like these, all hell breaks loose during a mass gathering, this time a company presentation by head Evil Scientist Guy, who should have known better than to fuck with Mother Nature but what can you expect from Evil Scientist Guys? If they have to fuck with something might as well be Mother Nature, consequences to humanity be damned.

While I don't feel like I wasted an hour and a half out of my life, I wouldn't mind if the filmmakers offered me a refund of my time and mental effort.

It's the Walking Away That Does It For Me

Right after he destroys that tank. I could watch him walk away repeatedly. I say that because I have. While I feel the trailer is showing me a little bit too much (I have a nagging fear they're throwing everything in from the film)I will be in line front and center, ready, willing and ever able to hand over my hard earned cash come Memorial Day weekend.

It's March, You Know What That Means?

MARCH MADNESS!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

I shall throw out this now: Go Salukis!

What the F*ck is Wrong With This Cat?

Seriously, I want to know.

Oh Yeah, Almost Forgot...

HAPPY LEAP YEAR DAY!!

Enjoy it while it lasts, it won't exist next year!

A Video for the Day: Kids' Rock

The Alanis parody had me holding my hand over my mouth to keep from laughing out loud in the office.

Hold On a Minute...

Jamie Foxx has played the following real life people:

Ray Charles (Ray), Tookie Williams (Redemption: The Stan Tookie Williams Story), "Curtis Taylor Jr." a.k.a. Barry Gordy (Dreamgirls) and is already filming as Nathaniel Ayers in The Soloist. On his upcoming slate he's scheduled to play the following: Earl Sanders, Bob Marley and now possibly Mike Tyson.

Jeebus. Either he's really good at playing real people or Hollywood forgot there are other black men in Hollywood.

Hell, Denzel Washington got how many biopics, two?

A Video for the Day: The Most Important PSA You'll Ever See

This Worries Me...

While I am truly grateful to have a full time job (and the paycheck that goes with it) recent events have caused me deep concern. Most notably I've been given even more responsiblity besides the fetch and deliver responsibilities I had before. I've now been assigned a specific task in my job and while my supervisor was explaining the details to me I couldn't help but run a ticker tape in my mind that read something like this: "You know I'm not going to be here that long, right? Why are you doing this? Oh god, she really believes I'm goign to stay here."

I have no idea if my supervisor just doesn't understand the concept of a "temp" worker or if she's just hoping beyond hope that I'll be the one temp who sticks (I will not) but she assgined me a task that's, quite frankly, long term. I have no intention of being here "long term" as the strike is over and I'm damned and determined to get back on a show by June. That's a long ways away I know but even still I think it would be best for the two people who are already here to handle the long term assignments while I handle the grunt work, which I don't mind doing. I almost feel bad that my supervisor is going to have to 1)find someone to replace me and 2) retrain them in all the harder stuff she's training me to do right now. She's had a history of people not sticking to the position I currently hold and I can see why.

I was okay with the little things, like the phone having my name in the display, me getting a company email (which I totally DON'T need), the parking pass (everyone loves free parking) and even being put on the company contact list and seating chart but those didn't feel as permanent as being given this new task does. On one hand it shows she likes me and thinks highly of me, but on the other it also gives her a false sense of hope because the first chance I get I'm out of here.

I certainly hope I'm not here until June. While it's a lovely place to work it's totally not me and not what I want to be doing for months on end.

A Video for the Day: The Magical Amount

Okay, truth, you've got me. This is where I come to understand just how advertising works. Even though I don't smoke, this song still gets stuck in my head and a few days ago I found myself singing it for no apparent reason so I guess it worked.

For Kenny: Teenage Mother Trailer

I found this trailer to be at once, hilarious, sad and an unintentional satire on the views of teenage (particualry female) sexuality.

Note how angry the (Brooklyn?) narrator is as he says "Teenage Mother" with such disgust and then narrates the goings on as if he were reading events with the enthusiam of someone watching grass grow.

Note the "teenage mother" herself, a "fifteen"-year-old who apparently likes to stand in front of her bedroom wall and brush her hair in nothing more than her boots and skivvies. I can think of worse ways to spend a Friday night. She also has a habit of seductively licking what I think is bufflo wings. And how many of us women are guilty of that, right laidies?

Also note the cheap production value, which makes me think that any non-studio film made in the 60s looked like porn, whether it was or not.

Speaking of porn, note the titilation quailty as the teenage mother's sluttiness is driven home, as she "turns brother against brother" and makes it with her main Guy Crush (with the sole intention of getting pregnant to "trap" him, every man's most important fear after losing their penis), the truck driver "We only got an hour..." or, getting randomly raped by some Thunderbird gang.

For me it was the randomness of the rape that made this incredibly sad. Watching it, you can tell the filmmakers want us to believe that she's brought the gang rape on herself for being "loose" in the first place and it doesn't even seem to phase her as the very next shot is her in a doctor's office, not for medical treatment or counseling or anything (lord knows rape victims don't deserve that) but to be told there's no such thing as a "little" pregnant by the surly, curmudgenoy old male doctor, who apparently has held this position for twenty years and knows pregnant when he sees it, by god. The Teenage Mother just sits there, all confus-ed about how this could have happened (hence the tag on the end telling parents they need to watch this with their children so that this doesn't happen to their little vagina-carrying angels.

Then the trailer veers back into man fearing/anti-woman misygony with the teenage mother and her Main Crush sitting in a car with her dropping the news that she's pregnant. Of course, the Main Crush asks if she needs money for an abortion and she promptly retorts that they need to get married, which apparently was her whole plan in the first place.

From that, I want to know two things:

1)We have no idea who the father is. It could be her Main Crush, then again it could be the Truck Driver, or any one of the guys from the gang rape. Which only makes her look even worse for the female manipulation angle they're going for. You can just see guys elbowing each other going, "Too bad they didn't have paternity tests back then, 'eh, 'eh?"

2)If she's getting pregnant DELIBERETLY, then why is this a cautionary tale for young women? It's not like the prenancy happened by accident or at least it's presented this way here. She knew she could "trap" her Guy Crush by getting pregnant which is something she sought out to do, unless I missed something and she was a virgin up until that point and the thing she needed to "trap" the boy she wanted was to finally give it "all" up and this apparently then lead her to turn into a sex crazed maniac, which is, of course, what happens to all young women after the first time they have sex. /snark.

Why aren't there any cautionary films out there about young boys running around imprenating girls? From this, you'd think that she got herself pregnant and the poor boy was just an innocent victim in all of this. God, sexism sucks.

A Video for the Day: Ms. Pac Man, Feminist Hero

Going back to Netflix

It's been months since I've used my netflix account, which I put on hold, god, I can't even remember when I put that account on hold but I did it a long time ago and kept keeping it on hold. They have this really cool policy where you can put it on hold for three months at a time and not pay the monthly fee. At first I did it because there really wasn't anything I wanted to watch, and then I got used to not paying 20 bucks a month for the three DVDs that would only end up sitting on my floor for weeks on end.

But now I've decided to start up my account again, if only because I couldn't go one more day without seeing gems like THIS or THIS. And Netflix allows me to watch these cinematic goldmines without the shame of having to physically go into a store and hand over money for them. My bank account won't scoff at my anonymous rental choices, a store clerk very well might.

I have no idea how long I will keep my account active, perhaps at least until TV gets back on its legs and I have regular nightly programning to watch and/or DVR. I don't know if you've noticed but TV's been kinda dead lately.

OKAY, I GET IT!!

His name is Charlie Bartlett, there, are you happy? I know his name, now please stop playing those damn commercials promoting that movie where absolutely EVERYONE says "Charlie Bartlett" every three seconds.

Temporarily Permanent

Yesterday I began my first day of termporarily permanent work. I say that because it's an open ended assignment, so I don't know how long I'll be here but until that day comes I've got a job every day. Which is nice.

While I was used to doing the receptionist thing these past few weeks, this new job has me in an open cubicle, which is the first cubicle I've ever worked in. Somehow I'd managed to avoid the standard working setup of most Americans. I have a desk, a computer, a phone and a space to myself. I even have those electronic keys that open doors, and a parking garage card so I don't have to pay for parking. On one hand it's kinda cool, but on the other this isn't really the place I want to be working at for the rest of my life, if you catch my drift that I don't want to be working here for the rest of my life. Hell, I don't want to be working here for the rest of the month, and yet I very well may be working here for a few while until I can get a job in the industry I DO want to be working in and I don't know when that will be so I have to just stay put.

I'm happy my computer faces the wall so that I can do things like this, instead of, you know, actually working. However, it's not like I'm avoiding work. I'm sure at some point there will be a rush of things for me to do but I'm worried that there might not be and this company realize they didn't actually need that extra pair of hands after all. It's weird, I want to be useful so I don't go back to the day to day work, but I also enjoy getting paid to play Spider Solitaire. Ahh, the conflict of feelings.

Good News First Thing in the Morning

It looks like there may be light left to shine on Friday Night Lights after all. Here's hoping they can get a deal and we can continue to get this great show.

Cheetos...

...creating sociopaths one commercial at a time.

Cheetos...

...creating sociopaths one commercial at a time.

In Honor of Zen

Of course this isn't him, but howl away buddy, howl away.

A Sad Day

My dog, Zen, who I've had for about 14 years, passed away. He got sick and my parents didn't know what was wrong and he died this morning. In the last few years he became more of my parent's dog than mine, because of the whole, going to college and then living in California thing, but I was the one who picked him out of the litter to keep and I'd like to think that the few times a year I saw him, that when I slipped him some chicken he remembered who I was.

Rest in piece, old friend.

A Video for the Day: Cucumber Sandwich

Funny, but gross. Gotta love those cheeky Brits.

Gainfully Employed

Faithful readers, you are reading the words of a now semi-fully employed blogger.

Though my awesome temp agency I now have an "open ended" assignment, meaning that there's no end date to my employment. Well, I take that back, there is an end date and that date is when they ask me to stay on permanently. Once that happens I must decline and go back to the touch and go temping, because my heart lies in being a writer and seeing as I've had some success with that I'm going to stick with it.

But, for now, there will be no more waiting for people to call to tell me where to go. As of Wednesday I will be going to the same place for the next few weeks, or, like I said, until they ask me to stay permanently, AND they pay well.

On top of all this, Tuesday I will be back at that one place that paid so super well and I didn't do a damn thing all day. Will lightening strike twice? I doubt it. I figure Karma will get me this time around and actually give me something to do, but that's cool cause I'll just make up for the first time.

It's a cool, internet based company and my basic job will be to make sure shit gets done and to make sure all the office supplies aren't being pilfered so much that the company goes bankrupt ordering Kleenex tissues. And to answer some phones and such, when necessary. Nothing I haven't done before (aside from keeping people from taking office shit, usually I'm the one pilfering Post-It notes, Kleenex and other shit I don't need but it sates the klepto in me).

Here's to employment!

Pussy Lickin' Good

I don't even care if that was too obvious. As the day of commercialized romance comes to an end, something funny. What I truly enjoy is how the white cat seems to just take it, not really getting into it. He doesn't seem like a giver, if you know what I mean;)

Work, Finally!

So my streak ended yesterday and I got one of the best jobs I've had thus far. And by best I mean it was the biggest paying thus far (14 bucks per hour) and I had the absolute LEAST to do.

It was one of those awkward situations where I was there and you could see the realization on my supervisors face that my presence was totally unnecessary but there was nothing she could do because they'd already locked me in for the day. Apparently, the phones had been ringing off the hook the day before and they thought they'd need someone for the next day as well. That is where I came in.

But when I came in, there were no phones ringing off the hook. In an eight hour day I answered the phone exactly six times. I know, because I counted. And four of those were from people who already worked there calling in to see what was going on. I had to transfer a call exactly once. The rest of the time I was doing what I would have been doing had I been at home: Surfing the net and goofing off. Except this time I was getting paid for it and I was using a MAC.

My supervisor kept apologizing, saying that usually there was something to do, and I kept having to pretend I cared, because regardless I was getting paid. I think she was really apologizing to herself for the money she was spending.

Though, I can report that my touch and go work stream might be coming to an end. Will keep you posted:)

...

INCEST NIP/TUCK!?! FUCKING INCEST!!!

*and I read about this on EW's blog. Good lord they are scraping bottom.

And Now We Play the Waiting Game

THE STRIKE IS OVER!!! YAY!!

....so now what?

While it's awesome that writers are going back to work, for a lot of us, specifically yours truly, this doesn't mean much. I'm not on a current show, most of which, like the mid-season shows, have already completed what they're going to make so the only thing for them to do is wait and see if they will get another season and I have no idea if there will be a pilot season or what that would even look like. Add to that I'm at the bottom of the totem pole in all regards so my amount of work amounts to waiting around and seeing where the chips fall and if there's any left for me. It's frustrating because there's nothing I can do but wait and I don't even really know what I'm waiting for. It's like getting ready to run a race, except you don't know when or if the gun's going to go off and you're on the field all by yourself.

But now that the strike is over at least I have a chance to run. At some point.

HELP SAVE FRIDAY NIGHT LIGHTS!!

It makes Riggins sad when you don't watch Friday Night Lights:'( Click the pic to sign the Best Week Ever petition or learn how to send light bulbs.

The Down Streak is Over!

Got a gig tomorrow! The highest paying gig thus far as well! (like, well over the $11 minimum) and I'm excited!

Here's hoping I can make it last for more than a day.

A Video for the Day

If this woman weren't so calm, and it so obvious that the hedgehog is trying to chew something, I'd swear it was being demoniacally possessed.

Recyling is Nice But It Doesn't Pay the Bills

I'm on day two of what I fear will become a non-work week. There's nothing doin' for today on the good temp agency front, so I called the not so good agency front and even they don't seem to have anything for the rest of the week. Damn.

Though I can't say I'm surprised. When I started temping it was raining biblically and quite a few people were probably calling in sick as to not have to deal with the traffic, and it was also mid/late January, when people really were getting sick. I filled in a lot for people who had the flu.

Now, the temperature's getting back up into the 70s, and not just during the day. These past few days it's gotten so warm at night I've had to bring out the window fan again. With the weather nice fewer people will be getting sick, and thus fewer jobs for me to fill in. It sucks but thus is the life of the temp. I've had two and a half weeks of up, I guess this is my down time.

In my down time I decided to finally take out my recycling to the local recycling center. It's one where you can put the bottles and cans into this little machine which counts them up for you. I had one hellavu time getting my plastic bottles to go in, the machine is very picky about exactly how you put in the bottles and some of them it kept rejecting and sending back until I finessed the bottle inside just right.

For my troubles, and my bottles and cans, I got exactly three dollars and forty-five cents. There was nothing that I could do with that except put it into my X-Men piggy bank.

Yes, I have an X-Men piggy bank. Don't laugh.

Ferengi Rule of Acuisition # 18*

"A day without profit is a day wasted."*

Today was the first day not by my own hand that I didn't work:( I guess I shouldn't feel so bad, I've had a great streak of luck and there's still the rest of the week to look forward to, as well as the fact that the writer's strike looks to be seriously coming to an end, but I've gotten used to working again. I even woke up before 8am today! Got to the gym hella earlier.

I can't really complain, I had a really good run there for a while so maybe it's time for a break or something. We'll see what happens with the next few days. I certainly hope I get back on the horse.

* I know the official rule is "A Ferengi without profit isn't a Ferengi at all," but that doesn't make much sense now does it? Especially considering I'm not a Ferengi.

Grammys Again

So I was corrected. Rihanna just won for best something or other and while she thanked Jay-Z and Barbados she didn't thank the Almighty. Then again, I guess for her that would be Jay-Z. ZING!