The Bananaverse

So after some frantic cookiebaking and some hauling to the store and the store and down the freeway, MovieScott and I went downtown to hold auditions for his movie. As his casting director, it is my job to do these sorts of things. One advantage to the movie we are shooting is that I get to ask the hot guys to take off their shirts (since they’ll have to in the movie) so I can take a picture. Yup!

We saw some awesome folks! There was the guy who used a piece from The Princess Bride (…so I can clearly not choose the wine in front of me!), there was the guy who did a passable Chewbacca impression for me, the girl who I adored who had emailed and said she didn’t fit the physical descriptions but I said she should show up anyway, the great guy in the Goonies shirt, the adorable man that smiled at me every time I opened the door to get another person, a guy who did a piece from Chasing Amy (the only part where Silent Bob talks at all), and so many other terribly fascinating folks. Some people were good but not what we’re looking for. I feel bad because it’s not that they suck, they’re just not what we need.

I think that this is going to be a difficult selection process because of what we have to choose from. There were some good people and it’s going to be hard to narrow it down to two each. I still want to audition for the movie, though, and I don’t know how to do that and judge myself objectively.

I’m really excited though. I think this will be fun and I hope to try and get some experience with this project so I can help him with more. I like doing and learning new things, so I want to be in on this as much as I can. I helped him read all the screenplays before we picked the movie we wanted to film, so for once spending all that time devouring whatever printed page was in front of me really helped out. It was really fun at first.

* If mtv themselves starts leaking info about the opening, and they act all “oooh, we don’t know where this rumor started!” who do they honestly think they’re fooling?

* Just because Eminem released a video, doesn’t mean he should win.

* Avril Levigne is still like, in existence?

* 50 Cent has had more shots in the face than Jenna Jameson. Comedy GOLD, baby!

* Britney Spears can’t effing sing. When will people learn this? Are they the same people who believe Bill O’Reilly?

* Watching Madonna smooch the girls was kind of cool, though.

* Jack Black making fun of Michael Jackson is probably funnier than it should be.

* Seven Nation Army is a bloody brilliant video

* The lead singer of Linkin Park looks like the opposite of a lead singer. And isn’t his name Chester or something?

* God Coldplay is fantastic.

* I’m thrilled to death that Duran Duran is back in their original incarnation.

* When did it become ok for the bra strap to show? especially in a halter top dress, yeesh!

* Beyonce, don’t pretend you’re singing, sweetheart. We all know that nobody’s interested in what you sound like if you look like that. And you could at least pretend and wear a mic or something, I mean honestly!

* Ben Stiller: Please tell me you were going for some sort of dorkified statement, I mean, who wears a tie that skinny?

* Drew Barrymore can do no wrong, sartorially.

* Fuckin A, Good Charlotte won!!! How much does that rock?

* Fuckin A, Johnny Cash didn’t win. How much does that suck? I mean, even Snoop Dog was like, “yeah, Johnny Cash, that’s my nizzle”

* Metallica. Does anybody really care anymore? And that “twenty years of mtv” thing was crap! Welcome To The Jungle, Beat It, Are You Gonna Go My Way, Teen Spirit, and Seven Nation Army, while nice licks, do not a retrospective make.

* What is this thing at the end? Is this the new Metallica song or something? hm. I wish I cared. They were so good once. Maybe I should go download some older stuff and pretend they’re playing that instead.

* Goddamn, Missy won video of the year! yay!!!

OK, so the whole thing is over. I just didn’t think this year was as fun as other years. I don’t know why. Honestly, is that Beyonce song as popular as the tv would have me believe? Because I don’t know anybody who really likes it, and I know a lot of people.

so last night I was having a hard time sleeping (surprise!) and I eventually decided to try going to sleep. I get in bed and proceed to have the following conversation with a semiconscious Scooter:

“Whatcha doin?”
“Going to bed.”
“Why?”
“It’s bedtime.”
“What about the sheep?”
“What sheep?”
“No sheep!”
“No sheep?”
“No sheep. Just the toasty toasty map.”
“A toasty toasty map of sheep?”
(sound of impatience) “Snuggles!”

Upon this pronouncement, Scooter pulled my arm over his shoulder and went the rest of the way back to sleep. I have no idea what a toasty toast map is, or where sheep ever enter into it. I’m so confused. But it was really funny, and now I’ve mentioned it here.

So I’m reading my Yahoo page of news and comics and stuff, and I see the following headline:

Nick Lachey’s golf shocker!

And I was suddenly struck by the fact that even WITH the exclamation point, that has got to be the blandest sentence in the English language. I mean, honestly.

And I can’t put a mood in, so I’ll list it here: awake.

woke up with four different messages in my inbox that all have mysterious .pif attachments and all come from

el79-84.med.utah.edu

which is sort of funny, ha ha ha, but also just a touch disturbing. Why does someone there have my email address? Why do they have another one? How come that doesn’t look like a real email server? Why did it take this long for one to show up? Anyway.

…and it finally did.

This is a good article for the numbers.

In short, one of the soldiers killed today made the number of deaths before Governor Bush declared the war over and the number AFTER he declared the war over the SAME number.

Call me crazy, but if just as many people died in the same place after you said the war was over, and it’s because they are fighting against the enemy they were fighting in that war, how is that not still war? I mean, if it walks like a duck, and talks like a duck…(am I really going to believe someone whose entire “soldier” experience consists of going awol from the National Guard?)

It’s early and I have a hard time making myself coherent to others at this point. I’ll try to elaborate on this later, but I really am confused about this and I want to understand.

I remember when I was a kid, we’d have these things called Underdogs. You’d be on a swing, and you’d get someone to hold onto the chain, run forward, back, and then forward again, but all the way straight underneath you as they gave you the push and then you’d go as high as they could actually push you. That was the funnest thing I think I ever did when I was a kid. A lot of playgrounds don’t even seem to have swings anymore, and I think that’s sad. There was a swing on Days and they were talking about getting a push as high as you can go, and it made me remember that. Thank you. That is all.

So I went to Ikea on like, Wednesday with the Hatter and J.Ro. I was compelled to purchase exotic treats, as is always the case with these sorts of stores (I have a similar weakness at Cost Plus-but it’s a little marzipan piggy! I NEEEEEEEEED it!!!!). So I picked up this little packet of Daim, described as ‘crunchy caramel candy bites’. So I figured it couldn’t be all that bad, right? Plus the illustrations on the package lead me to believe that this mysterious substance is, in fact, chocolate coated. Well, it can’t be all THAT bad, right? So I bought them. I just opened them and as I did I noticed the little blurb in the corner of the package: more Daimtastic!

This bothers me. I don’t know just where Daimtastic ranks in the lexicon of delightful words. Is it as good as beef-fabulous, or even better? Or is it worse than everything, like gigli-icious or Hildeous? I don’t understand!!!!

I’m trying to figure out what to do with words like Daimtastic. Aside from flipping out my spellchecker (like just about everything else I write), I wonder why people create these sorts of words. Is it so kids will use them and therefore make ‘daimtastic’ a part of their vocabulary, betting on the fact that saying it enough will make them buy red pouches of crunchy choco-candy? I want to know! And that’s why it bothers me. I’m the sort of person who really considers these sorts of things.

By the way, the Daim itself is not bad. It’s not really caramely like the pouch says, it’s like eating Heath bar shrapnel with lots of chocolate on it. mmmm.

Why is it that one of the reasons lawmakers are trying to outlaw p2p is “Well, you don’t want a kid to think he’s getting Harry Potter and end up getting pornography” is such a huge huge deal, but when I get email with samples of a girl and a horse in it, well, that’s perfectly ok to advertise and send to me without my permission? With p2p at least I’m choosing to download it and take the chance on it being a tranny wanking in the corner (maybe he waited till his hand fell asleep?) instead of, say, the audio version of book five. With spam, all choice has been removed. Why, when it’s my decision is that bad, but when someone else makes that decision for me it’s ok?

(ponders Edina Monsoon’s rant about taxes and railings and stupid people)

I’m a miserable sobbing mess right now. I just saw Chris Rock’s mom on Oprah talking about how she was proud of him for the man he became: the husband, the father, the brother, and the son. She was so impressed with who he became.

I don’t think anyone has ever been proud of me. Who am I kidding? I can’t remember the last time I was proud of myself. This sucks and I hate it and it’s so effing hot in here (herre?) that I don’t even know what to do with myself. I just saw her saying she was proud of him and it made me cry to realize that I don’t think anyone has ever been proud of me. Not when I had Dustin, and willingly let him go, not when I picked up my whole life and moved away to be my own person, not when I married Scott, not when I didn’t end up a raging alcoholic or perhaps junkie or even dead when it’s been 17 months since I had a real job. I have managed to survive and it sucks so much sometimes that I’m not sure I want to anymore. My mom always had my brother, and my dad always had his own life to deal with, and I just tried to stay out of the way.

Now I have to go pull myself together so I can spend the rest of the evening smiling and pretending everything is ok. I wish I could find the form that lets me just spend an indefinite period of time under my desk sobbing. I’d rather do that.

Enough bitching. I need lip gloss.

* In all manner of non-food items, it seems that you are instructed to use about twice the amount you really need.

*In food items, it seems that the instructions are about half of the amount you need.

I’m not even going to get into that whole 8-bun/10-hot dog thing.

SO!
Al Franken, of Rush Limbaugh Is A Big Fat Idiot And Other Truths, (which I thought was a delightful read) is in some more trouble. His new book, “Lies And The Lying Liars That Tell Them: A Fair And Balanced Look At The Right” has really pissed off Fox News because of what they claim is a trademark violation because of his use of “fair and balanced”. Faux News has decided to sue the Emmy-winning Franken. (A report that is creepily lefty and yet, somehow, from the Salt Lake Tribune, can be found here if you so desire.)

An interview with Al about the controversy can be found here where he goes into some detail.

Heh.

I just don’t understand how anyone can take someone who worked on INSIDE EDITION seriously. INSIDE EDITION!!!!!! People! Pay attention! Anyway.

* If they know that the blackout wasn’t a terr-ist act, why do they keep saying that? And why did all this make the local news trot out terrorism experts to discuss it to death?

* Why does everyone think that just because the jello hit the fan in NYC it’s just like 9/11?

* Tonight I get to meet someone I’ve wanted to meet for a very long time, and I don’t much care right now.

* Inevitability of a thing does not make the thing any easier to accept or understand.

* J.Ro’s moving is the single bright spot in the Verso Universe.

* I can understand trying to wrap up some storylines that aren’t yours when you get to be the head writer, but could you at least do the faithful viewers a favor and end them reasonably?

* And while we’re on the soapy subject, turning what used to be a vaguely interesting character and turning her into a one-note sketch is a stupid way to go. Especially when you spend a lot of time on her.

* Nothing makes a day like dread.

* WTF is with all this ear wax, anyway?

* How come I feel so ADD right now? I am incapable of completing ANYTHING. Including this post. I thought other stuff, but I just don’t care anymore.

If you are going to call me from an unknown number, let it ring more than twice so that I can actually ANSWER THE FREAKING PHONE!!!!!!!!!! Whoever you are, you’ve been doing it for a week now and I’m starting to get upset. You won’t let me answer and you won’t leave a message. PICK ONE! bah.

heh.

So tonight Wil was at Powells Beaverton so we went and had a really good time and he read and it rocked and then we went to dinner because the Hatter was hungry and so while at Chevy’s this passive aggressive mofo with a receding hairline and an expanding ass sat near us and made comments the entire time. When I made some mention of “how sad it is when people get dressed and leave the house just to harass other people” he got all huffy and started mumbling about me and my dinner companions (J.Ro and the Hatter) and eventually after he said something I’m sure he thought was terribly clever, I, partway through some sort of haaaurrrahh of margaritas (the drink, not the overweight mexican lady) started laughing and I said “really? Is that the best you can do? that’s so sad.” (but all I’d heard from him was mumble mumble staff and mumble mumble give him aids and stuff). Then he said something about me and I said “excuse me sir, isnt’ there some Fox news special you’re missing?” and he got all huffy with me and stuff, and then eventually because I was with two male dinner companions (after I beat him at his passive-aggressive game and mentioned loudly that it was sad when you couldn’t even find someone to go to dinner with) he called me a slut and before I knew what was happening I had jumped up and walked over to where he sat and asked him to clarify, since I had heard him say something and I wasn’t sure What I Had Heard. Keep in mind that I am not a large person, and the curly hair and freckles do not contribute to an attitude of badassery, and he said “oh, I don’t know what you heard, I didn’t say anything, it must be the voices that you hear.” To which I replied, “If you are implying there are voices in my head, say so. Don’t imply. Mean it or repeat your last sentence to me, either way I’d appreciate it if you took your head out of your chips and salsa and said it to my face. Take your pick.” and he wouldn’t. Then I stalked back to my table and realized that on the other side of the bar, a large contingent of nametag wearing individuals (staff) had gathered to see what was going to happen. Then he started loudly demanding his check (I was really not as confrontational as he would have you believe, I assure you) and saying that he didn’t want to associate with the sort of clientele they would serve, and what sort of tragedy it was that they would “have the nerve to liquor up your women” and I motioned to the same waiter and said “I need a lot of drinks if you want me to associate with THAT kind of clientele!”. At one point the waitress we had came by and in walking closely to my table she said “sorry” real quiet, but we heard her. And then later the bartender (which was the one he accused of trying to give him aids) came to ask if we were ok and I told him that I was sorry, on behalf of regular people everywhere, that he had to deal with this wingnut and he said that he comes in a lot, and that he heard what that guy called me and it wasn’t ok and he didn’t know what to do so he was glad I did anything at all. I told him that legally there is a reason that restaurants put up that “we reserve the right to refuse service to anyone” sign and that they are under no obligation to serve him, but if they do, please piss in his beer or spit in his nachos or something, as a personal favor to me. he laughed and said it was ok, he’s there a lot, and I said that it is not ok and nobody has to take that kind of abuse and that again I was sorry. He said it was ok and that I was not the one causing the scene, and I told him I wasn’t sorry for that, I was sorry that he got treated this way, and it sounds like he was treated this way on a regular basis and average “I’d like a margarita please” people everywhere apologize for the treatment suffered at the hands of this yo-yo. He seemed to cheer up after that. The Hatter complimented me on my fine work, and the thing is, I wasn’t even trying all that hard. Anyway, we had two uber-ritas after meeting Wil and getting photos which will be posted online later and now I’m so faced I just need to go get in bed now so here I go and I will talk to you later ok bye.

J.Ro and I had this conversation:

You know where Powells Beaverton is, right?
Yeah. Well. I’ve never been there. I know where Beaverton is, but that’s about it.
That went from a yes to a no in a hurry.
Well, I know where Powells is, and I know where Beaverton is, so like, somewhere in between?
Yeah. Sure. Let me go look.
I’m right in the middle and I don’t see it here…I need an information booth.
(like Milton)excuse me…excuse mee…

Arnold Schwarzenegger: Finally, a public official who can explain the administration’s policies in the original German.

Bill Maher, will you marry me? (he’s the one who said that) Last time I laughed this hard was when J.Ro and I were in the car listening to Hallo Spaceboy and J.Ro started having a conversation with himself (as Beavis and Butthead)

“You don’t understand! This chaos is killing me! I’m never gonna score!! AHHHHHHH!”
“uhh, here lies Beavis. The chaos killed him.”
(it just went downhill from there)

it’s too bad that gay is such a short word, since I can see an awful lot of euphemism potential in “episcopalian bishop”, which, sadly, is such a long phrase. I’m glad the vague 11th hour charges didn’t stick or even get taken all that seriously, since they smacked of convenience and desperation. Perhaps it was queeny desperation…if it had been on this coast I could have told you for certain. I spend vast stretches of my life knee deep in queeny desperation. le sigh.

I forgot to mention that the video for “Boys And Girls” by Good Charlotte is superb. I really like it, really.

I also like most Matt Good videos, and In This World by Moby is downright tragic, but great nonetheless. Just FYI. (:

heh.

Me and JeffRo went out tonight. We had fun, I guess. I said I needed one more drink and J.Ro found some cash so he bought me that last drink. That’s what made it a good idea to go to the Roxy and get some chow before we came home. I had a Jackie Bestwich (whoever she is, it’s named after some drag queen) and JeffRo had a sammich that said “Tell em Large Marge sent ya!” but I don’t remember what it was called. Anyway. We had some drinks and some dancing and then at the Roxy we had some giggles because someone played Bohemian Rhapsody on the jukebox and we made up a song about pea soup. I guess that’s all. We had fun and some giggling and some drinks and J.Ro met some guy he went to HS with or something, I don’t really know, but he said hi and was nice and cute enough I guess. Still more girls at boxxes than I think there should be, which sounds dumb coming from me. Plus I got a hug from a guy after I told him that I had seen him earlier and even though I wasn’t of his people he looks fabulous goddammit and I hope he knows it. He looked touched and thanked me and gave me a hug. He really did look fabulous and I have to go before it turns into typofest 2k3 or something. bye.