Seriously?

Dogs are too ridiculous.

I Know You're Never Supposed to Assume but...

R.I.P. Lafayette
You were forever my favorite. The gay ones always are.

A Red Ribbon, Chocolate Cake, The Chokey, and Rusted Root?

So my friend Alexandra got a very late birthday present today which consisted of two cards and a cd of a band we'd never heard of. But some of the words used to describe them were "progressive" and "African" so they sounded pretty much right up her ally. Lo and behold, when we played the disc it had that song from Matilda! No, not Little Bitty Pretty One. It was the other one. That no one really knew what they were saying but it was sang along anyways.

The music video then shortly came to my attention and it is a work of genius. Pure genius. I think the poncho in the beginning sets the tone for the rest. I'm sorry I can't embed it, but check it out. Laugh, think of how much you wanted magical powers and this in the soundtrack to your life. I'm sorry

Speaking of Beaver

I had a dream about Dick two nights ago which is weird because anyone who knows me knows I'm crazy for Beaver.

That sounded very wrong, but as usual I'm just talking about television. I also just learned that there was mention of a Sadie Cassablancas once. Coincidence or fact?

Either way I better watch myself because we all know you do not want to get on Beav's badside.

I Don't Even like Space that Much

I'm hooked.

Battlestar Galactica has officially taken over my life. All the time I wasted, shrugging it off as some lame Star Trek knock-off or something. I didn't even know anything about it.

I should have known it was good though. I couldn't have known how good, but still, I should have known enough to give it a try. The Veronica Mars references should have been enough. They have high standards, obviously.

So I need to thank my dear friend Sarah for prompting me to start watching. Thank you for giving me the gift of good tv. I feel as only you know how important a gift that is.

And I hope Billy's a cylon. I miss him and we're in love.

He's the Beaver of Battlestar. Though we all know how that one turned out.

So say we all.

Memory Challenged McCalls

So a few years ago my other-half Katie told me a story her grandmother had recalled at some family gathering. To sum it up, way back in the day Katie had a black friend. The BFF's were hanging out one day when Katie just up and licked her pal, looked at her, and said "You don't taste like chocolate." Now, Katie claimed that her gma was just hyped up on Vicodin and made that up, which in her family is totally legit. Katie herself had many dreams as a child which up until last year she had believed were real (It turns out she did not have a rocket swing, or a room full of dressers to jump around on, while doing which she almost killed her sister). Well last night while waiting in line for Twilight I regaled my fellow Twihard with this story after which she just stared at me until she said:

That's from Corrina, Corrina.

After further investigation (aka Imdb) I found the scene which my friend was referring to where Molly asked "Do you taste like chocolate?" It might not be a perfect match but when you're all hopped on painkillers I can forgive the misquote. The inspiration for grandma's lies has been found and it makes what was already one of my favorite stories that much better. I wish my grandmother would tell me tales of my life that were really from Whoopi Goldberg films.

I'ts Only Tuesday, But..

This week of tv blows.

No one's gotten laid on Gossip Girl in weeks! That's like taking the nudity out of Playboy. Blair has barely even schemed. Lil J looks looks Pat Benetar and David Bowie's bratty demonchild. Dan and Aaron are both total puss's. Vanessa is still blowing as always. Nate is actually becoming one of the more interesting characters. I don't like it. The preview for next week gives me hope though. It promises some Bass lovin, and now that I'm back to the long-distance thing I need that distraction. I also think that this will be the episode were Bart finally croaks, opening up the Rufus-Lily romance to blossom and get a little hot and heavy. I just need someone to have sex on that show. I don't care who. I'd even settle for some J on N right about now. Gossip Girl-give me sex or give me death. That is all I have to say.

One of the only things I love more than Chuck Bass is vampires. So obviously I'm a little obsessed with True Blood. I was flipping out last week when there were only two episodes left. Like with the final Harry Potter I was sad for it to end but jonesing to keep going. Only now my fire's a little put out. I'm hoping that there's some crazy Law and Order type of twist and that they really didn't give away the killer that easily because that took the cliff out of cliff hanger.

And you know it's a bad week for tv when the highlight thus far has been Heroes. The Sylar/Elle sexual tension last night pretty much made my week. It was only second to the Blair/Chuck lovin I had been waiting for the hour before. Plus, it fits in so perfectly with my plan to be Veronica Mars. As long as I never had to choose between Logan and Slyar, that is.

I know it's only Tuesday and it's a little soon to write off the whole week but I can't help it. First impressions do matter and bad first half throws off all the rest. Even Dexter last night, which I'm pretty sure was suppossed to leave me on the edge of my seat "OMFG"ing put me to sleep. Literally. This is the week before Thanksgiving for crying outloud! Give me some I Hate Rachel clubs or awkward guest stars pretending to be judgemental estranged mothers.

At least I have Twilight on Thursday.

Hamster? I Hardly Know Her!

Let's talk about Bolt.

Normally, an animated film featuring John Travolta and Miley Cyrus would be pretty low in my favor. Unless it's Grease or Pulp Fiction, JT just grimes me out. And yes, I have watched Hannah Montana and yes, I have laughed and sang along. (I also may have asked for my mom to pay off her "Fine, I started smoking again" debt with me by taking me and a friend to the 3D concert-win, win, win, you know? Good times for me, teach my mom a lesson--J. Walter Weatherman was booked, and awkward times for my friend). But MiCy is no Hannah, and now that I don't have access to that jewel of a tv sitcom, Hannah fades from my memory only to be replaced by superslut Miley. That leaves no celebrity induced inclination to see it and while the plot would have enticed me as a child, I stopped thinking I was some sort of Sadie of the Wolves at the age of eight so the dog angle is lost on me. But oh, poor poor boyfriend. The first order of business for our next reunion is to go it. Why you might ask? One simple reason:
If that is not the cutest thing you have ever seen then something is wrong with you. I do have to admit, I sort of have this hamster thing. I just think they are cuter than babies, Keropi, kittens, you name it. A cute hamster trumps all, and the fatter the better. My poor boyfriend once again falls vicim to my obsession. The final ten minutes of our last phone call were completley spent with me giggling to myself as I googles pictures of my favorite rodent. His pains weren't for nothing though. This post shall reap the rewards of his trials and tribulations. I present: Adorable Hamsters 2008.These picture really make me miss Buckles, Zipper, Buttons and all my other childhood hammies. Oh, and yeah, we did name all of our hamsters after fastening devices. But there they are: the cutest damn things the Internet contains nowadays. Enjoy.

The Truth Behind Jo and Beth

My friend searched "lesbian pornography" in the NYU Library Database.

They gave her Little Women.

Sex, Mugglewumps, and Whoopi

I love advertisements, even the horribly sexist and objectifying ones. I think they can be interesting and funny. Plus, I believe advertisements reflect society and not the other way around, so while some are incredibly offensive I don't believe they are the real issue, only symptoms. Pretty much I just feel people should chill. In some ways I see a correlation between advertising and the veil/hijab/burqa/headscarf. Some people believe they are symbols of oppression, others as liberating. Either way, the only way anything big will get done is if all the women side together to change opinions or situations. This is not going to happen. There are just too many perspectives to make any single one right. The same is true with advertising. While many see the sexual objectification of women as this great detriment to women's rights, most of these ads are geared towards women. They give the power of the "male gaze" to the woman to observe herself and her peers. Women objectify themselves just as much as men and judge each other. The idea of "body chopping" in ads is also highly controversial but women do that every day ("I want her legs," "She has great arms but skeleton hands," "Total butterface"). Women want to feel sexy. Advertisements may take advantage of these desires and habits but they are not the real issue. We all are. I know I'm more than just a sexual object, but I like to be looked at, admired, desired. I can't help it. That's not because I'm surrounded by waif models and oversexed media, it's because everyone wants to be wanted, to be better than someone else.

That was totally not the point of what I wanted to talk about. The kind of advertisements I wanted to post about are actually completely different. My favorite kind of ad or spread (which is just a more artsy way of selling something) is the kind with some theme that I relate to. I don't like them when they try to tell a story about some random girl and her wild adventures. My favorite is when they draw from things I already love because then I automatically like the produts because they are linked to something I already cherish. Vogue UK just came out with a Roald Dahl inspired spread so of course I freaked. I was really hoping for at least one Twit's shot. Luckily for me, Vogue never disappoints.
I do wish they had done one with the birds and the sticky stuff all over the tree, but this pretty much made my day. Then the site I was on had a link to one of my favorite ads from last year.

How amazing is that? Oh, and I must correct myself. Earlier I said Vogue never disappoints. Not true. Their Wizard of Oz shoot was a total letdown and not even because Keira Knightly was Dorothy. I grew up on Oz so I hold very high standards, so it's no surprise that was a let down. Speaking of things I grew up on, I think they should do an Eloise spread or ad, couture kleenex box hat and all.

When Hairy Met Sadie

So I got my haircut over the weekend. Big fucking deal. I've been growing it out since I got the Nicole Richie summer after sophomore year. Needless to say, my hair was looong. And I was getting worried that if I didn't act fast I'd have a Blake Lively problem on my hands. That girl just has too much hair. It's not sexy. It's not a hot mess. It's just a mess. I hate it. And yes, I might be a little biased. Serena Van der Woodsen might be my least favorite character on TV. Every time she cries, I'm pretty sure a manatee dies, but still--I think it's general knowledge that her mane needs to be tamed. It's just too much for me and every time I looked at my hair I couldn't help but worry if it was getting "too Serena". I hate when people have too much hair. How could I mock them if I was one of them? And mocking hair is sort of a hobby of mine. Once there was this girl with some of the worst bangs I'd ever seen (cut straight across her left eye). We stopped using her name in conversation and would just make the bang eyepatch with our hand. This went on for about a year. Even my dog got into it.
My point is that hair is important. It can make your or break you in the gossip world. Obviously, hacking all of mine off scared the shit out of me but I really wanted to donate it to Locks of Love. I went to this Ukranian salon in the Village and the woman cut off my ponytail and asked if I wanted to donate it. I enthusiastically said yes and she set it down. Then after she was done she handed me the ponytail and I was like "Uhh...don't you keep this?" She told me that they personally didn't donate hair and I'd have to find a location that did. Not wanted to sound like a lazy, uncaring bitch I took what was once my beloved, if not worrisome, hair in my hand. While paying and awkwardly holding the ponytail I asked for a bag. They didn't have any but they did have an envelope. So there I was: walking down first avenue with an envelope full of wet hair. It was gross. Plus, I had no idea where to donate it so I looked it up online. Turns out, my hair was about an inch too short so now I just had this soggy envelope full of hair. And of course my first reaction was that this ponytail was too weird to waste and that I should send it to someone (boyfriend of BFF, didn't really matter). But I couldn't just send them a plain ol' thing of hair. That's not nearly creepy enough. I had to do it, Cajun style.
Of course I didn't actually go through with it. That's a little to creepy, even for me. At least, even for me to do without being able to be there, witness the reaction, act innocent, until they figure out it was me (which would probably be the second they opened it. People always know. I can never figure out how). So now I just have a soggy envelope full of hair with a threat written in lipstick in my trash. That might be just as weird, if not weirder, than if I had sent it at all. In a way, mission accomplished.

Lost My V Card

The only thing better than Gobias.

Gobama.

It Takes Two

So I was on totallylookslike.com today and there was one about how Will Ferrell looks like Trapper John McIntyre:



And thought, "Yeah, I guess...that's still no Chad Smith."
So I typed in Will Ferrel to see his look-a-like to Chad Smith because it's so obvious it had to have been done only to find out that according to the website the only other person Will Ferrell totally looks like is Disco Stu!



What the Frak?!?
Everyone knows Will Ferrell and Chad Smith are like Amanda Lemmon and Alyssa Calloway ! Identical strangers!!!



I rest my case.

Her Character From Sabrina Would Have Been Better

Is it an insult when people tell you that you remind them of Punky Brewster?

R.I.P. Beaver, ILU Desmond

Don't you ever just wish fictional characters were real? I do. More so for Desmond Fellowes than anyone else. For most of you I'm sure you have absolutely no idea who he is. Well, he's this guy:And no, that is not Paul Rudd. That is Desmond Fellowes from My Pretty Pony. Ex-rockstar, druggie, drunk, and hack. He also happens to be hilarious and the love of my life. I will be forever grateful to Veronica Mars for bringing Desmond into my life, and for just existing in general. For all of those who haven't seen VMars, you have not lived yet. While it may sound terrible and cheesy (cute little teenage girl moonlights as a P.I. while balancing solving crimes and maintaining some sort of social life in Neptune, CA) it's not. I was once a non-believer, just like you. I started watching V with my friend the same summer we rented Popular and Sweet Valley High and a surplus of other terrible-awesome shows (except SVH-that was just terrible). Veronica Mars is not like that. Somehow they make all the insane story lines believeable and Veronica Mars is my sassy idol (the first thing I asked my mom for when I moved to NYC was a taser so I could kick ass like VMars). My point is: when I create a machine that can turn fictional people into real people, my first order of business will be Desmond. The second will be Brad Pitt, but that's a whole other post.