Friday, December 31, 2010

Yeah, it's been a while...

It's a jolly holiday, isn't it?

Caller: I was listening to the message about tonight's shows and I want you to know I'd like to see that Spoiler Alert show.

Me: Unfortunately, though, as the message said, we are sold out this evening.

Caller: Oh. Well, I was looking at the online thing and thought about buying tickets but I only need one ticket.

Me: Okay, but sadly we are sold out for the shows tonight.

Caller: But do you do any last minute rush tickets?

Me: No, we don't. There are no tickets available for tonight's shows.

Caller: Oh, so it really means sold out.

Me: Yes. As sold out show means the show is sold out.

Caller: So, like, but could I just get one ticket online or how can I do that?

Me: You can purchase up to ten tickets online.

Caller: So I could get one?

Me: You could just get one, yes. Or you could get more than one. But you can't get more than ten.

Caller: So I can do that for tonight?

Me: Not tonight, no, because we're sold out.

Caller: Oh! Well what about any other show?

Me: There are no shows tonight with ticket availability as per the message at the beginning of the call.

Caller: What about on other stages?

Me: All shows, all times, all stages are completely sold out tonight at the Second City.

Caller: Oh, so there are no tickets for tonight. How much are tickets?


And then I shot myself.

Sunday, December 19, 2010

Dialogue from an actual Hallmark movie




Him: That little girl keeps coming into Santa's workshop, but she doesn't ever say anything. It bugs me!

Her: It bugs you because she's sad.

Him: It bugs me, because she doesn't ever talk to Santa.

Her: It bugs you, because she needs help and you can't help her. You're a kind man.

Him: I am not!

Her: That's not what everyone else says.

Him: What are you talking about?!

Tuesday, December 7, 2010

Stupidity.

"If I buy tickets to a show, do I have to pick the night, or can I just buy them and come whenever my friends come?"

Also...

"I'm calling to see if the $3 phone fee is for every ticket or all the tickets."

Thank you.

Tuesday, November 16, 2010

Spelling Bee

Me: You could go to Dinotto.
Old Woman: And what is that?
Me: Italian.
Old Woman: What did you say it was called?
Me: Dinotto.
Old Woman: Spell it!
Me: D-I-N-O-T-T-O
Old Woman: Ohhhhhhhhhhhhhh...Dinose toes!!! Say it again!

Tuesday, November 9, 2010

See? That's not my problem.


Me: And could I get your credit card number, please?
Douche: Mmkay. You're gonna have to bear with me, alright? I'm driving 60 miles and hour down the road with my knee!

Sir, you've made me an accessory to something in which I never wanted to be involved in the first place. And your tone of voice makes me think that, somehow, I'm inconveniencing you. It isn't as if I called you up on your cell and interrupted your drive to see if you might be interested in "lemme get 11...NAH! Better make it 15. That doesn't make that much of a difference!" tickets for your employees on Thursday night. I was sitting here minding my own business, probably knitting, and you chose to call my place of work to make an over-the-phone order while operating a motor vehicle. The fact that you are endangering lives is not my problem, but yours. Quite frankly--you wreck your expensive car, I'll still be alive, and that's a fact. Suck on it a little.

Me: And could I just get the 4-digit code above your credit card number on the front of the card?
Douche: Jesus Christ!

Okay, no. That's a big no, sir. Again, let me remind you who began this transaction. If you are stressed it is your own damn fault. Also, why are you stressed? You just gave me your credit card number. I've asked four additional numbers that are right the fuck there on the front of your card! Please. Remain. Calm.

I'm calling Oprah about this.

Friday, November 5, 2010

Like a crazed man talking

Perhaps it was my aversion to standing in slow-moving lines that made me wait so long, but I have been living in Chicago for over three years, and it has taken me this long to get a library card. I have tried more than once and left every single one of those times. I just couldn't handle it. Today, I waited it out...impatiently. Aren't you glad that I did, dear reader?

Standing not ten feet from me was the front of the, as the Brits say, "queue", and I was no closer to that promise land than I had be when I stepped foot in the front doors some ten minutes prior. Behind the counter there was one woman doing her best to assist everyone and another doing who knows what. On, what I like to call the "customer side of the counter", was a tall, middle-aged gentleman with a buzz cut. Aside from his choice in hairstyle, he seemed fairly normal and I assumed, by where he was standing and the fact that the woman behind the counter was currently assisting a man and his children, that he was simply waiting for someone to bring him a reserved book or some paperwork. I quickly deduced by listening to him that this was not the case.

Buzz Cut turned towards the man who was being assisted at the time and said, "Your kids love to learn. That's good."

I rolled my eyes. It just sounded so fake. Plus, how does this dude know these little kids are intent on learning? They may have been forced into the library by their father and this could cause them great emotional distress in the future--a fear of books, perhaps. This did not occur to Buzz Cut. He talked, and he talked, and he talked until I thought I would kill him. I would just push all of these people out of the way and jab my car key into his temple.

The man with the children had a long ponytail and, at one point, Buzz Cut asked, "How long did it take you to grow your hair that long? Does it take awhile? I once tried to grow mine out, and it got about a foot long and that was all I could handle. "

I am not certain if this man really responded to the line of questioning about his tress. He eventually walked away. The next customer needed assistance with an item she had on reserve, but there were so many reserved items behind the desk she asked the librarian to simply, "Not worry about it," and she would come back at a less busy time. (Is there one? When is that? I want to be here then, as opposed to now.)

"Are you sure," the woman asked.
"Of course she's sure. She's understanding," commented Buzz Cut.

The girl left without her reserved item. Buzz Cut ranted.

"You know, you can find nice people if you just look for them, you really can. And, you know, this is a thing I always ask women, and I mean no disrespect by this, but... where are the men? You know? Where are all the men."

Another customer. Then the librarian's son walked in and they exchanged your typical mother and 12 year-old son words, some of them not kind.

"How old is your son?" asked Buzz.
"He's twelve."
"Twelve going on 30? He likes to act older than you are. Hey, son, you know, you remind me of my nephew. You know that? Did you know you remind me of my nephew?"
"No."
"That's not a compliment. It's not a good thing. You respect your mother."

I was starting to think I really didn't want to stand next to this man. What things would he say to me?

"Oh, I need that jacket!," he said to a woman in a fur coat. Then, it was my turn.

I kept trying to make eye contact with the woman to see if she too thought Buzz was crazy. If this was a normal, Friday afternoon exchange I'd like to know. You know... so I could come back with some sort of recording device, because this is one loopy, talkative mother fucker. This lady was all business.

"I just need to get a library card," I said. In my head, though, I screamed "Please don't say anything to me! I don't know how I'll react!"

"You already have a card, don't you?, " she said.

"No, I don't."

"Really? Never? You just must have one of those faces."

"I've heard..."

"Yeah! She does! She's got one of those faces and you know something else? She's honest!" As if Buzz Cut has encounter much library fraud in the past. This whole situation was weird as shit.

The woman behind the counter started typing my info into the computer as Buzz delivered his dissertation about people and society. The rambling continued, and I tuned most of it out until he landed on the subject of his wife.

"I know you feel bad about your son, and he shouldn't talk to you like that. I know that my wife, she was with a man who just got her pregnant and then he just left the child for dead!"

I couldn't help but think at this point, "I'm sure you've left a couple steps out of that story, Buddy!" but I refrained from saying anything.

"You know? And now I have to be his father, and I don't want to be his father. I sure don't. But what can I do, you know? What can I do? I mean, this man just threw her in the garbage."

It was the first thing he said that struck any sort of chord with her at all. For the past twenty minutes, the woman had only uttered "yeah" or "uh huh." Her coworker started to chuckled, her back turned to the man and the woman, as sassy as she could be said,

"I ain't been thrown in the trash, now. Let's just make that clear, alright? I throw you in the trash! I don't get thrown in that trash! You got that?"

At this point, I had my new library card and was free to go. And I was a little sad, as well. That trip to the library was just beautiful character study. I'll be returning... for books even!

Thursday, November 4, 2010

BFFs, hard at work.

We started out like this:


Now we both have big girl jobs of great importance and we look like this:


Our friendship is mostly conducted during the work day over Gchat and it goes like this:
me: Si, but I'm 'bout ta go ta Walgreen's
Emily: that's like spanghetto

Sent at 12:26 PM on Thursday
Emily: so i am curious about this Braca testing or whatver it is called have you seen it... the blood work that shows your chances of ovarian or breast cancer.
me: Oh, yeah
Emily: i've got both running from both sides and i just know it's coming
but i mean what would you do if this blood work is like 100 percent?
just go ahead and take everythig out??
but what if that's how i'm supposed to go and i end up final destination-ing myself up??
me: hahaha
Emily: i don't think we are supposed to know that type of thing.
me: Yeah we probably aren't.
I mean.. what do you do but wait for it to strike at that point?
Emily: exactly
me: Every time you have one little pain or weird feeling, you're going to be at the doctor and the conspiracy theorist in me says taht's all it's for.
Because doctors really need money, Emily. They simply don't have enough yachts.
Emily: and i don't think insurance will just pay for me to get new boobs becuase my current ones are faulty.

Sent at 12:38 PM on Thursday
Emily: so when people talk about stuffing it kinds grosses me out i don't want to eat something that cooked inside the bird and it all mushy

Sent at 12:39 PM on Thursday
Emily: you know what we don't need... a jersey wedding show. vh1. we don't need it
me: Oh, Christ. No.

Sent at 12:54 PM on Thursday
me: Emily. Is Brad Pitt really THAT good looking?
Emily: i don't think he is the end all be all, but he ain't ugly.
me: Right.
Emily: he is no jon hamm.

Sent at 12:57 PM on Thursday
me: I just sold a gift certificate to a stylish and wonderful gay man
Emily: sounds a lot better than the angry gay man russell who just yelled at me because i told him his church bells ringtone was annoying.
then i stole a tootsie pop.
burn.
[BLANK] has got to be the most boring person on the face of facebook.
me: You just burned that gay man AND [BLANK].

Sent at 1:11 PM on Thursday
me: HA! Lina is going to Ikea with one of the girls from the theater and I told her to text me pictures as if she's going on a vacation somewhere.
Emily: exciting stuff you never know what you'll see though
me: It's true!

Sent at 1:17 PM on Thursday
Emily: [sends a link for a product--a ginger lollipop that eases morning sickness for pregnant women]
me: If I just have a hangover will they work for me?
Emily: maaayyybe.
i wonder what a ginger lollipop tastes like
gross in my head.
but i do like gingerale

Sent at 1:23 PM on Thursday
Emily: oh well everytime i do something mariah carey decides she needs to do it too
me: Name 12 instances in which this occured
Emily: 1. the time i wanted to make a movie and call it sparkle... she did glitter....
Emily: ok i can't keep on
me: hahahahhaha
That's all you've got. You are WEAK!

Sent at 1:42 PM on Thursday
me: Damn he was cute!
And so charmin
HAHAHHAHAHA
me: He was a toilet paper

Sent at 1:44 PM on Thursday
Emily: ok so in the past few minutes i've gotten invites to go seen hanson and nkotb. separately.
heavily considering hanson.
me: That's awesome

Sent at 2:14pm on Thursday
Emily: all i see is her one pic
me: ball ass
Emily: taint
that a bitch

Sent at 2:32 PM on Thursday
Emily: hey know what i can't stand on facebook....
but when people get a lot of pictures from something recent and change thier profile every hour to a new one

Sent at 2:39 PM on Thursday
Emily: ...she is 36 years old
and she thinks vitamins make you fat.
and she won't leave her house without her husbnad
me: I know. That's why I said this to you
This chick just called here b/c she had a ticket but she meant to buy for Toronto. I ask for her name and she just says "Susie"
Really?!
Emily: why does she take a pic of sarah jessica parker to the salon and think her asian hair will do it, then get mad when it looks exactly the same as before
me: You think I can seach the MILLIONS of orders we have if you just give me "susie"?

Sent at 2:44pm on Thursday
Emily: weny's dad won't let her get an american passport or take her husband's last name.
her last name is currently tanuwidjaja, it could be lam.
me: wow.
Emily: i can only pronounce one of them
i said weny you live in a whole other country. you can do what you want
no no no no no
if i see that mcrib commerercial one more time i'm going to kick ronald mcdonald in the balls
so gross.
me: I know!

Sent at 2:56 PM on Thursday
Emily: hoda+kathielee+mchale=giggles.
me: I like math a lot
Emily: i cna't wait til i get old and can act like kathie lee and people are just like oh she's old and drunk
me: I know!!! Emily, it's my dream
me: I already drink my body's worth of water in wine
(That was a good sentence)
Emily: that is some math

me: I think I have to blog about our chat today. We've had some moments.
I don't know if I should leave out the racism though.
Emily: eeeehhh maybe
we don't mean it for real mean, but other people don't know that

me: do you have that pic of me and you sitting on the counter in your mom's kitchen from 1997 saved on your computer?
Emily: looking..... while listening to tootsie roll

Is this a question?

"Yeah, hi. I've never been to your venue before, and I had a few questions. I saw here on your website you have a show that is holiday themed and, what we're looking at is December 4th. We'll be in town that weekend and we need to get two tickets for a show and were just wondering about it. It also says here you can do a pre-show dinner package and that gets you special seating with restaurants in the area, and I saw that O'Brien's is one, which is something we would be interested in and, I found this on your website, though now I can't seem to pull it back up. You also have a deal with the James Hotel, or something like that."

Where were the questions? I must've fallen asleep before you asked them. There wasn't a question mark on the end of any of those run on sentences. Not one!

Seriously, who IS on first?



Caller: Yes, I want tickets for this Saturday's main stage performance.
Me: I'm sorry, all of our shows on Saturday are completely sold out.
Caller: Oh, well what about the other show?
Me: It's sold out.
Caller: When is your next availability?
Me: Well, we have main stage at 11pm tomorrow night, then both stages have tickets this Sunday at 7pm.
Caller: So, all shows are available tomorrow?
Me: No. Only the mainstage. At 11pm.
Caller: So that's both 11pm shows tomorrow.
Me: No, sir. We only have one show with availability tomorrow and it is the main stage at 11pm. All other shows are sold out.
Caller: And then you're sold out the rest of the weekend?
Me: No. Here's what we have-- tomorrow, Friday, at 11pm, we have one show. It is on the main stage and it is available. Every thing else is sold out. Then, on Saturday, we are completely booked. Then, on Sunday BOTH stages have tickets available for shows at 7pm.
Caller: So you're sold out for tomorrow?
Me: Not for everything, no. The only show we do have is Mainstage at 11pm.
Caller: And then Saturday is open.
Me: No, sir, Saturday is not open. It is sold out. Our next available day would then be Sunday.
Caller: For just main stage.
Me: No. For both shows.
Caller: And then you have both shows tomorrow at 11.
Me: No. Just main stage.
Caller: And then you've got tickets for Saturday at 7.

Holy. Crap.

Saturday, October 30, 2010

Kudos.

In late September I was asked by Angie McMahon, "Have you heard about this Rally to Restore Sanity that Jon Stewart is having in DC?"
"Yes."
"Is anyone doing one in Chicago?"
"I haven't heard. I don't think so."
"I wonder why. Want to help me plan?"

I may have said "Sure!" and then chugged a little more beer. The thing is, Angie McMahon isn't all talk.

I believe it was the next day that the Facebook page for the Chicago satellite of the Rally to Restore Sanity was launched. The initial intent was to get enough people interested in attending in order to find someone with the know-how to plan and coordinate the entire thing. On September 22nd, I wrote to Angie: "458 people attending so far! Angie, this is so great!!" By early October that number grew, and grew, and grew. As I write this, the number of people who "liked" the Chicago satellite rally on Facebook is at a whopping 7,969. Talk about a snowball effect.

For the past month, I have watched from the sidelines as Angie has rallied followers, talent, local production companies and sponsors, started a Paypal account to raise funds, and basically man an entire movement all by her lonesome. As the month-long time line dwindled into weeks, then days, people on Facebook started to get agitated, antsy. Would the city of Chicago even grant us a permit? Is this thing actually happening? Why doesn't Angie just call Oprah? Angie herself was a skeptic. I never was.

I knew that, on October 30th, I would stand in Grant Park and watch hundreds (and possibly thousands) of people gather to simply say, "Enough of the bullshit. Let's just get along already." And I knew Angie would be at the helm. At times I felt extreme guilt for not participating more in the planning of this event. I didn't do what I could to help a person who found herself in the middle of internet-based mayhem and bedlam. As independent and determined as I tend to be, I have been known to find a "mother hen" or two to guide me along certain paths in my life. Angie McMahon has been one of my hens since I moved to Chicago in 2007. So, when I saw people criticizing my mommy, I went on the defensive.

Most people have been supportive and considerate throughout this entire process, and I know that Angie is grateful to them. They outweighed the naysayers by a landslide. The rally happened. And for the better part of it, it was a peaceful gathering of moderates willing to laugh off idiocy and say, "To hell with ignorance." But I also witnessed people coming down hard on Angie and giving her lectures on how she was "losing the crowd" by not letting them simply watch the DC rally on a jumbo tron. How it was "unfair" to the speakers because no one wanted to listen to them. They'd all rather see Ozzy Osbourne perform. "You're involved in theater, you should know when you're losing your crowd."

I couldn't help it. I went on the defensive again.
"Ma'am, there are still a ton of people here and they seem to be listening. If people want to watch TV, they can do it at home."

Yet another woman told Angie not to "allow" people to swear into the microphone. Yes, Angie McMahon has directed several scripted productions but, ladies and gentlemen, this was not one of them. Angie never called people to Grant Park to watch TV together. It was clear from the beginning that Chicago's satellite would stream some live footage from the DC rally, but we would also make this a rally of our own, inspired by the one held by Jon Stewart and Stephen Colbert. As these women walked away, I grabbed Angie and I said, "Remember, all you did was start a Facebook page and fuck them if they don't like it." Their bitching and moaning defeated the entire purpose of gathering in the first place. This was intended to be a peaceful event. Angie later took the stage and eloquently restated what this rally was about, what she had intended to do, and thanked those who stayed to listen to our speakers and performers who had taken special time out of this beautiful Saturday afternoon to "share this moment" with all of us.

I couldn't have been more proud of my mother hen. I am a person who has a hard time planning what I should eat for lunch. Angie McMahon plans rallies that are "bigger" than herself, and she does it with grace. Those of us who know Angie are well aware that she is notorious for biting off more than she can chew. But, we should never underestimate her ability to break down that bite into easy-to-manage proportions after the fact. Not to make this a feminist thing, but what a remarkably strong and determined woman! I realized today how lucky the world is that Angie is raising daughters.

Please, if you see her around town in the next couple of days, give Angie a pat on the back, a simple "thank you" or a "well done." Do not buy her a drink. She's pregnant. But she does deserve some credit. She became an accidental leader today, and she did a damn fine job.

Raise a glass (of milk) to Angela McMahon!

Friday, October 29, 2010

It had to happen sooner or later...

To the woman who saw "WILL CALL" on her invoice and thought she had to call the box office to reserve tickets she'd already paid for...congratulations. You, madam, have destroyed what little faith I had left in humanity. It's been a long time coming, and many have gotten close, but you take home the coveted prize. Best of luck de-evolving back into an ape.

Friday, October 22, 2010

Prepare ye...


Are you scared yet? You should be.

People love riding horses. Personally, I've never had much luck with it. The first time I ever got on a horse's back my cousin was riding her four wheeler beside us, and the horse freaked the fuck out nearly sending me, an eight-year-old novice to horseback riding, flying across a dirt road where I would have, inevitably, plummeted to my untimely death.

The second time I rode a horse, I was on a beach in Swansea, Wales. It was amazing, that was until the dude took off running and my saddle started slipping. To Whom it May Concern: You didn't put the saddle on correctly and, if I hadn't landed on sand, I may have been seriously injured. Sincerely, Casey.

Another friend of mine also fell off her horse that day, and she grew up training them. Now, I know these are instances where human beings had a hand in making horses lose their shit, but it seems to happen more often than not. Instead of being completely bitter about my experiences with horseback riding, I put myself into the horseshoes and came up with a little theory-- Horses do not want us riding them.

Think about it. Back in the day, long before we had automobiles and animal rights, we rode horses into battle where many of them fell victim to musket-shot wounds, death, broken legs, you name it. If you were a horse, wouldn't you be a bit angry over this? I think I would.

I'm pretty certain, if I were a horse, I'd be mad as hell, guys. First, you ride my ancestors into war, getting them maimed and killed, when they were reluctant to go in the first place. We're a peaceful species. We don't want to quarrel. Then, you get all smart, invent the automobile, and now you want to ride me for fun?! OH, HELL NO!

Humans, we should be prepared. We should respect horses or be prepared for the day we see the great equestrian uprising. Hey, I'm not happy about it, but it's bound to happen. So yeah, you should be afraid, because I'll bet, once they train up a bit, those sons of bitches can and will fight.

Wednesday, October 20, 2010

Spread the love...

Today, like many others, I am wearing purple to honor those young people who have been bullied due to their sexuality. Last night, oddly enough, I came across something I wrote about five months ago about my propensity to befriend gay men and to honor my uncle, a man who died far too young, before he could come out. I thought it fitting to post that on my blog today.

I love and miss you every day, Jeffrey.

If I told you I could pinpoint the day when I first noticed this,well, I'd be lying. It probably hit my radar about the same time I started doing theater on a regular basis, though I can't even recall exactly when that was. It was a self esteem boost for sure! No less than ten, attractive men vying for my affections, telling me I'm great, I'm beautiful, complimenting my clothes. They just couldn't get enough of me. They loved my opinionated bitchiness and appreciated my need for quiet time and space. They shared all of my interests and fawned over my Cher impression. They made me feel like a princess, so loved and respected. The only drawback...they detested my T & A.
Yep, since a very youthful age, I have been a gay magnet.

My mom says it comes from my uncle Jeffrey. He died when I was nine. He was effeminate. He loved soap operas. One of my most vivid memories is of him watching something like "As The World Turns" or the "Young and the Restless" on the couch in my grandmother's living room. A heated fight broke out between a couple on the show. It was more than my nine year old brain could handle at the time. With one swift and dramatic move, the male half of the couple pulled a handgun and BANG!

Then, from the sofa, there came the loudest intake of breath I'd ever heard, a hand to the chest, his jaw dropped as he shouted, "He shot her!"

I knew I loved that moment then, though I never quite knew why until just recently. I now know that was my first sister to gay man moment. I'm so glad that I didn't miss out on that.

Jeffrey passed away several months later-complications due to viral pneumonia. Now, of course, we all know that means he had the AIDS virus. When it's the early 90's, and you live in the south, AIDS is a dirty word. You simply cannot say it. And, if you do, people are going to judge it. I recall a kid in my 10th grade chemistry class saying that all people with AIDS should be taken to a deserted island and bombed. I also remember nearly being expelled for the tongue lashing I gave him following his little speech. Very few in my school knew that I'd lost someone to that virus, someone very important. I simply couldn't talk about it, not because I was ashamed, but because I absolutely refused to allow this small-minded community judge someone they barely knew.

My mom says that, as I've gotten older, I am Jeffrey reinvented. His love of pop music, dance, theater, and bad tv all dwell inside of me. It's as if I took all of his favorite things and created a little home for them in my heart without even knowing. I honestly believe, if he were alive today, he would be my best friend. That belief brings about in me a sadness I cannot quite put into word, and yet it comforts me profoundly as well.

Recently, a really good friend of mine had speculation that her younger cousin was gay and too afraid to come out to the family. She kept trying to find ways to talk with him about it that wouldn't make him uncomfortable, but no such luck. He found me on Twitter not too long ago. We wrote back and forth a total of three times before he admitted his sexuality to me. My friend simply said, "Casey, you're like a gay whisperer."

I don't know where it comes from or why they flock in my direction, but they do. And I can't say that I hate it. I absolutely love the attention. But, having a personality that lures gay men can have its downfall as well. I know of two guys I've kissed in my lifetime who turned out to be gay. I really liked both of them, too. And then there's my first boyfriend from when I was five, my first kiss. He's rumored to be gay as well. So, if my friendship doesn't lure you from the closet in which you shouldn't hide, surely my saliva can.

I'm not bragging. I'm simply stating the obvious. Gay men love me, and I can't help but love them back. As someone who was heavily influenced for the first decade of her life by a man who had to hide his sexuality, I feel it is my duty to stand beside all my gay and lesbian friends and help them find their voice when they need it. I hope and pray that, in my lifetime, I'll see a world where those friends of mine can marry someone they love. It's a world my uncle never got to witness. I hope that when I pass and we meet, where ever that place may be, I get to tell him all about it. And then we get to geek out on tv and stuff.

Much love to Robert Jeffrey Pilkenton!

Saturday, October 16, 2010

Aileen makes the world go 'round


"I was bullied the other day at the laundry mat. I was just in the depths of despair and crying about life to my mom on the phone, I just do that sometimes. And this black boy walked up to me and said, 'Yo. Yo. You gotta hole in your pants.'"- Aileen May

Friday, October 15, 2010

Humanity needs to get better. Period.

In the past few weeks the It Gets Better campaign has blown up all over the internet, causing various celebrities to record themselves reaching out to gay teens who are being bullied in their schools. Where I do believe in gay rights and I think these people have their hearts in the right place, I have some major issues with this entire campaign and the circumstances which caused its formation.

First of all, the trigger for this particular blog was a post on PerezHilton.com where he reported on a gay kid who was beaten on his school bus while two adult, school officials were present. After the report, Perez wrote, "And to that 14-year-old, we say this: IT GETS BETTER!" True. It most likely will--once you graduate college. But what are we doing about these bullies? The media and the parents of these kids who are victims of taunts and sometimes violence keep putting all of the pressure on school faculty to make the difference. I've said it before, and I will say it again--kids are smart enough to hide their evil bullshit from adults, plain and simple.

In most cases, a group of jackasses intent on tormenting that child who is considered "weird" or "different" will wait until an adult's back is turned. They are not going to carry out acts of violence where they can get caught. Their lack of compassion for their fellow human being may display their ignorance in a fine way, but there's a difference between ignorance and stupidity. You can be ignorant and still be cunning. Why can't the media speak directly to the parents of these kids accused of torturing their classmates to the point of suicide? Do the important lessons of respect, kindness, and love not get taught directly in the home? The parents in these cases should be questioned and confronted. Who are these people and how are they raising their children? Because that is the problem. All of this responsibility cannot be put on the schools. Meanness is a learned behavior, and it is learned, in most cases, in the home.



Also, as my roommate stated this morning, all of the videos posted as part of this campaign are recorded by celebrities--actors, public figures, musicians. Not to downplay their intentions at all, but these people are rich and famous. Of course it got better for them! I really hope the videos are working, but perhaps getting some every day, average Joes to record messages will make an even bigger impact. Surely there are some Starbucks baristas, some struggling artists, some grad students, some secretaries, some office interns, who feel the same way-- it gets better because you will find people who accept you for you.

And lastly, I feel great sympathy for the families of these kids who have decided to take their lives rather than deal with the pain of being tormented daily. I've heard their stories, their complaints to school officials for months, even years. I cannot judge them in any way, because it is not my place, but I do know that, if it were my child and I had the ability to do so, they would be home schooled. I would do everything in my power to make that child's days better. If you can't feel safe sending your child to school, it's a sad thing, but you probably shouldn't send them. Don't trust others with your own child, trust yourself.

The It Gets Better campaign is a great thing, a wonderful thing. But, as a sometimes cynic myself, seeing only celebrities spreading the word can be a bit off-putting. And I can see how it could be translated as, "Hey, kid. It gets better. Just endure this torment and this hell long enough to make it big, then every one will love the fact that you're gay." We should be teaching acceptance to the bullies, not tolerance to those being bullied.

Friday, October 8, 2010

This ain't a love song


This is a photograph of a random activity I took part in many months ago. It is not recent.

I put this up because I just came across someone's blog and it is full of photos of all their daily activities. They're not dull! Compelling photographs with witty and fun captions, present! I thought, "I should really think about doing a photo blog."

Then I thought about how lazy I've become about uploading photos and I realized that is something I will never do.

I felt I should share this.

Friday, October 1, 2010

Today Was A Good Day, Ice Cube


I'm watching Dateline NBC.

The story is about a man who was wrongfully accused of murder, put in prison, and nearly put to death before the charges were dropped.
While being interviewed the man was asked how his freedom felt. He said, "It was the best day of my life." He paused and then said, "Aside from the day I married my wife here. Sorry."

Dude. Don't apologize. Sure, it's a social nicety for every one to say that their wedding day is the single most important day in their life, (Until, of course, their first child is born. And if they have more than one child...well...don't get me started!) but very few people have lived out the scenario you have, so live it up! Be honest! Absolutely. Yes. You were sentenced to death for a crime you did not commit and nearly fried in the electric chair. The day you walked out of prison, hugged your friends and family, pet your dog, put on your old street clothes, drank a beer, watched your own TV, and had a home cooked meal again...that is, without a doubt, one hundred percent, the best day of your entire life! And if that woman sitting next to you who vowed on your wedding day that she'd love you for better or worse does not understand that, then she is selfish and doesn't really love you at all. You don't need her. Tell her to suck it. (That was a terrible dress she had on anyway.)

The best day of your life should be the day you actually met that person anyway, not the frou-frou wedding.

Saturday, September 25, 2010

I'm listening to too much Fiona as of late

Watching the pot boil
Eventually
The reasons to not like you
Outweighing the ones
Why I do
Yet the times I'm near you
Forgetting negative, positive growing
Exponentially

Here I sit
Phone in hand
Reliving my past
In an arid land
Unable to explain
This onslaught of disdain
And how it directly
Relates to man

Persistent
You tease, then pull away
Reluctant at first
I've kept it at bay
Too foolish, too strong, too prideful to leap
I find myself pulled overnight
Sucked in too deep

"Unfair" is the word
Utilized
Seems appropriate for that
Which tames a
Wild cat
Then releases it back
To its own, tumultuous wild
Paralyzed

Thursday, September 23, 2010

Too Little, Too Late

Well they just keep pouring in today...

Negligence: I need to get tickets for Saturday night at 8.
Me: I'm sorry, sir all of those shows are sold out on Saturday.
Negligence: Dammit! It's my anniversary.
Me: I'm sorry, sir.
Negligence: Not your fault I just should have called earlier! I thought about it because I did some group sales through you guys for work and I got my invoice and decide...Anyway, are you sure? It's sold out? Are you checking?
Me: I've checked. It's sold.
Negligence: Dammit. I really could use a laugh that night.

Or...a divorce. Just get a divorce, please.

I'm not fluent in Douche, but I am learning!


Douchebag: Yeah, I'm callin' 'bout tickets. You got any?
Me: Could you be more specific?
Douchebag: For a show.
Me: When?!
Douchebag: Tonight. Or tomorrow.
Me: We're sold out for professional shows tonight and tomorrow at 8, there's availability at 11pm tomorrow night.
Douchebag: What else you got? Any other thing? The message said you had another one...
Me: We have an independent stage that is set aside for up and coming performers...
Douchebag: When is that?
Me: Tonight at 10:30.
Douchebag: Okay.
Me: Okay?
Douchebag: Yeah.
Me: You want one of those shows?
Douchebag: Yeah, let me get two of those.

((Transactional bullshit and then...))

Douchebag: Yeah, where am I going?
Me: Where are we located?
Douchebag: Yeah.
Me: You're going to 1608 North Wells Street and...
Douchebag: What?! How you spell Rowl?
Me: You... don't. You're going to Wells street. Like wells of water.
Douchebag: Oh! W-I-L-D?
Me: No.

Wednesday, September 15, 2010

Okay/Not Okay

There are many things that can be done in a jeep. You can go to the beach, go to the mountains, drive it respectively and safely in the city, just to name a few.


There is probably a long list of "not okay" things to do in a jeep, but there's one in particular that I encountered this morning. I feel the need to address it here:

It is not okay for you to drive for half a mile in the bike lane instead of joining the rest of the cars as if you are about to make an eventual right, only to blow your horn at the girl in the Ford Focus when she gets in front of you before the next major intersection, because she has no idea you are intent on being ahead of her. It is also not okay for you to be on your cell phone while doing this. That's probably why the girl in the Ford Focus will decide you should see her middle finger. She is not, in fact, showing you her manicure...because it isn't fresh. It is not okay for you to show your middle finger, because you are the one in the wrong in this instance. So, don't flip her off at that moment and don't flip her off when you pass her later while she's turning left. Just, don't. You are the asshole in this situation.

On second thought, I think I've changed my mind about people driving a jeep in the city. Not okay.

Wednesday, September 8, 2010

It's a Facebook thing...

There's a new activity on Facebook that's been invented for the sole purpose of eating up your free time. Folks are tagging their friends in a note where they list 15 albums that have stuck with them. It's supposed to be a quick list, and it shouldn't take some one... say... an hour to do this. However, some people are meticulous and overly concerned with things that really don't matter. My list took a while.

As I said in my Facebook note, these things are just fodder for judgment. People love to be snobs and tease others about their musical tastes. I think music is a uniquely personal thing and a song, no matter how "terrible", can take you back to a time and place and emotion that no one else can feel but you. As a person who has been said to like a lot of "bad" music, I applaud people for being open about the skeletons in their music closets. Even cheesy music has its place... so says my old CD single of "Shake Your Bon Bon" by Ricky Martin.

Even so, I do feel the need to share the reasons why these 15 albums made the list, not to save face, but to share... because it is interesting to me. And, also, I promised myself I would write something today. Enjoy...or judge.


The Cars - (debut) The Cars: In my opinion, The Cars are sadly underrated. My parents had this album when I was a kid and they wore the damn thing out. (Back in the day, kids, there were these things called records...) I remembered my fondness for the band when I came across a greatest hits compilation of theirs in college. My roommate said bluntly, "I have no idea who they are." I said, "The fuck you don't!" and proceeded to play the CD. She knew every track. The Cars, a great part of music history; their first album, a stunner. It will always be a favorite.

Weezer- Pinkerton: Man...remember when Weezer did good things? Of course, being introduced to Weezer was exciting enough for my generation. A sophomore effort is not always as adored, but Pinkerton did what it could to win just as many hearts as the Blue Album did. Nice work. Not only do I hold a special place in my heart for this album, because I was constantly called "Casey Pinkerton" by countless southerners who refused to look at my actual surname and pronounce it the way it was spelled. Some of my most crucial high school memories are embedded in between these songs. You all might see a track listing, but I see drives to the mall with my best friend and high school soccer games on the back of that jewel case as well. Look closely, you might see some memories of your own.

David Bowie- Hunky Dory: If I were to make an attempt...a feeble attempt...at explaining my love for David Bowie, this blog would never, ever end. From childhood, to my Bowie renaissance that began about five years ago, I've been hooked on this album in particular. I can't quite put my finger on what it is, because Bowie's genius cannot be married to one, single album. Most of my favorite songs, however, are on Hunky Dory. For that simple reason, it made the list.

Nirvana- MTV Unplugged in New York: My Sony Discman was the permanent home for this CD when I was 14. I saw no need to listen to anything else. I fell asleep to this album, woke up to it, listened to it in between classes. I had those headphones on so much my beloved electronic was taken away from me on the last day of 8th grade. Thankfully, I got it back just in time to spend an entire summer sitting on my stepmother's porch swing while I listened to Kurt Cobain's gritty voice haunt me from beyond the grave. Up until that point, I hadn't enjoyed any other Unplugged album. But this one...this one still takes me back to that time. I still feel what I felt then when I listen to it. I'm not sure if it's good or bad to revert back to the 14 year old me, but it feels cozy. Like an old, ugly flannel from the 90's grunge era...

Silverchair- Frogstomp: I've gotten shit for this one, but it is oh, so important. Silverchair ignited one of my longest lasting friendships. My best friend Emily and I bonded over this album, because it was a band of hot 16 year old boys from Australia and we were in need of celebrity crushes at the time. We were obsessed. We talked about them nonstop. Our weekend outings revolved around buying every music magazine that contained even the tiniest mention of "our men." We saw signs of our pending marriages to our beloved boys every where. My first real, ticketed concert was at a festival where Silverchair opened for ... The Ramones. No biggie. We thought we were pretty special that, of all the cities in America, their first US gig took place in Atlanta. This album is by no means a masterpiece, but "Tomorrow" will always make me stop and have a tender moment. Emily and I still text one another when we hear it, because we're still best friends to this day. Thank you, Daniel Johns, Ben Gillies, and Chris Joannou. Thank you very, very much.

Queen- News of the World: This album must have played on a loop in my home for a solid year during my childhood. I recall lying on my stomach, flipping through my parents' album covers while they listened to them. I was particularly fixated on the artwork for this one. It will never leave me. Just look at the fucking thing! To be honest, that had a lot to do with why I chose this Queen album over the others. It was a tough choice, believe me. Queen was a Pilkenton household staple.

Cyndi Lauper-She's So Unusual: Another album cover I stared at as if it were my job, but this album defined the 80's for me. Seeing as I was three when this was released, that isn't saying much, but Cyndi Lauper had her hooks in my little mind. Every where I went, I wanted to be dressed like her. She is still an embodiment of that decade for me and these songs just take me back to being a little girl who was obsessed with being a pop star. Even then, I knew great style when I saw it. Bitch had it.

Madonna- Like a Virgin: If Cyndi Lauper was my style icon in the 80's, then Madonna was the big sister I never had...and probably shouldn't have had. I thought if I wore bows made of tulle in my hair, I could look just like her. "Like a Virgin" was my absolute favorite song when I was four. I would put my tulle bows in, throw on some bangles, some eye shadow, and sing my heart out. Some people thought it was weird, but since I was actually singing "Like a bergent... touched for the very first time..." and no one knew what in the hell a "bergent" was...my mom decided it was okay just to let this one be. Madonna inspired me for years...probably until she started having scarily sculpted man arms. Yikes.

Everclear- Sparkle and Fade: Remember all stuff I said about Emily during my Silverchair blabber? Throw her in with this one too. I listened to this album from beginning to end on repeat until I just couldn't take it any more. I wrote Art Alexakis letters. Funny, I'll bet some of you didn't even know his name.

Foo Fighters- Foo Fighters:Dave Grohl... one of my many celebrity loves. What a fucking genius. The excitement behind this debut album was huge, because the dude from Nirvana had made it...and it was good. It made a crater-sized impact on my eighth grade summer, and then the Foo Fighters went on to put sizable dents all in my adolescence and college years. Still... one of the greatest live shows I've ever seen. And, still... I would make out with Dave Grohl if he asked. I'd have to.

R.E.M. - Automatic for the People: Remember when I thought I could become Angela Chase from "My So-Called Life" if I dyed my hair red, wore oversized shirts, and listened to the saddest music on the planet? Remember the great music video for "Everybody Hurts"? I still geek out over "Man on the Moon" and "Ignoreland." This is just a good album, so suck on that.

Todd Rundgren- Something/Anything?: I was born in 1980 to a mother and father who were 17 and 19, respectively. Therefore, I probably listened to this album in utero. Todd makes the list by default. My parents probably enjoyed him because my dad's name is also Todd. Also, Rundgren is talented as piss.

Nellie McKay-Get Away from Me: This album always reminds me of when I moved away from Georgia, because I listened to it on many lonely, Las Vegas afternoons. (Thank you, Adam Brown.) Nellie is just as political as she is whimsical. I imagine, if we were friends, she'd invite me over when I'm having a bad day, and we'd have a princess style tea party, and everything would be an adorable shade of pink, red, or purple. I just adore her, and you will too. Listen.

Fiona Apple- When the Pawn...: Cyndi made me obsessed with pop stardom. Over a decade later, Fiona made me fall in love with singing again, only this time, I was brooding and sultry...for no apparent reason. This album reminds me of driving my 1992 Ford Escort through the streets of Griffin, Georgia, my first intense, college crush (He was bipolar. It was awesome.), getting a post-80's perm (Not the worst idea I've ever had, but certainly not the best either), and the fact that I pretended to look great in ankle-length skirts (I just don't). Want to fill me with angst and make me sing as if I have a message to deliver? Put on Fiona.

John Lennon- Double Fantasy: Lennon's death has haunted me all my life, because it happened when I was just three months old... and it was all my mother could talk about when we discussed the Beatles. Lennon was a household name. "(Just Like)Starting Over" has perfect placement as the first track on a comeback album. "Watching the Wheels"...my absolute favorite by Lennon. I love the man so much, it was hard for me to narrow it down to one album, but this one became his epitaph in a way. I guess that's why I find it so moving.

**Honorable mention goes to Thriller...obviously.**

Tuesday, September 7, 2010

Another day at the office


This is the greatest photograph I've seen in a while.

Recent Conversations With Mom



Aug. 29, 2010
Mom: I think I need to go on a date, I had a dream I was seeing Mark Wahlberg.
Me: Well, that's not so terrible. He's a nice looking guy.
Mom:But I don't know him!


Sept. 7, 2010
Mom: I know you are busy at work, but I had dream about George Clooney last night and have decided that all these dreams I'm having about celebrities means that you are going to make it!

(And I have no doubt in my mind that is exactly how Clooney looked in Mom's dream)

Friday, September 3, 2010

Misunderstanding all you see


Nearly three years ago now, on the anniversary of John Lennon's death, I decided I wanted some sort of Beatles inspired tattoo. I needed something small, I didn't particularly want words, and I wanted it to mean something to me. My kick ass mom helped me land on the idea of the strawberry.

"Strawberry Fields Forever" has always been one of my favorites. When I was very young, I hid behind a tree as I watched other children play at a birthday party. This birthday girl ended up being my classmate and, on her 18th, we watched that video. It wasn't until then that I realized, "Oh, guess I've always assumed other kids thought I was weird." The line in the song, "no one I think, is in my tree" speaks volumes now.

Here is what John Lennon said about "Strawberry Fields Forever":

"I was hip in kindergarten...I was different all my life. The second verse goes 'No one I think is in my tree.' Well, I was too shy and self-doubting. No one seems to be as hip as me is what I'm saying. Therefore-I must be crazy or genius. . . 'I mean it must be high or low' is the next line. There was something wrong with me, I thought, because I seemed to see things other people didn't see."

John Lennon said that shit the year I was born. I've always felt this strange connection to him because he was shot just three months after I was born, and my mom always talked about his death as if he'd been some long lost family member. Reading this quote about this particular song...this week, of all weeks! I rang in my birthday just over 24 hours ago by dishing about the Beatles at midnight...and this song was mentioned. And I explained why it was my favorite before I'd even read this quote.

I'm not trying to be dramatic, here. I just think... it's a little magical... and kind of fucking cool.

Thursday, August 26, 2010

Monday, August 23, 2010

The language barrier between humans and dogs


I. Love. Animals.
Did you get that?

If I see a dog or a cat in public, I lose my mind. I once took an unnecessary trip around the block so I could walk past a Starbucks and check out a dog without seeming too forward. Some folks are not friendly when you talk to their dog in public. A problem, I say, unless their dog is an asshole and wants to bite strangers. Then, I say, "Good on you, dog owner, for being smart and providing a service!"

I also talk to animals like they're people. I have conversations with my cat about shit that I could never discuss with fellow humans. I'm fairly certain he listens, though his advice comes in the form of either A) Licking his tail, B) Rubbing his head on my foot, C) Leaping from the sofa and sprinting to his food bowl to check that it is full, or D) Suggesting I talk to someone I believe he calls "Merle." I've yet to locate "Merle" but I'm sure he's great, as Albus mentions him repeatedly...daily. It's kind of obnoxious.

Last year, while staying with a friend in Japan, I noticed a dog tied up outside of a store. We all freaked! That's my friend, myself, and the dog, all wagging our tails and getting genuinely excited about meeting. I walked forward and immediately launched into typical speech I reserve for animals who are strangers.

"Hey, buddy. What's up? You're handsome. I like your collar. It's red. It looks great on you. Where's your mom? Is she inside? What's she buying? Are you getting a treat? She'd better get you something. I think you're awesome."

My friend approached, petting the dog, talking and carrying on about how cute he was, and then I stopped dead in my tracks. My friend looked up at me as if to say, "What's wrong?"

"This dog...this dog is Japanese. He... doesn't understand English. He doesn't get what I'm saying."

It wasn't until that moment that I realized what a culture shock Japan truly can be. I was a little hurt and frustrated that this dog could not receive my compliments. I was also bewildered by that language barrier. I found it much more jarring than the ones I encountered at the airport or while shopping.

I mean, there are animals out there who do not understand English. They simply cannot comprehend it. It is not their first language. Weird, right?

Signed,
The Cocky American Animal Lover

Thursday, August 19, 2010

But our meeting was so brief


I guess there's a soft spot in my heart for this place after all.

I lived there a total of nine months and, in those nine months, I made friends quicker than I have in any other time period in my life. I haven't seen their faces in over three years, yet I still consider some of those memories home. I was transported back there through great reunions (and some awkward small talk) tonight, and it made me realize how much I miss it. As emotionally tumultuous as it was for me, living there for that short time was like nothing I've ever known, and the fact that I can never go back there in the same capacity is weighing heavily on my heart. The independence of my 20's was all wrapped up in a shiny, brightly-lit ball of slot machines, late night comedy, an off-the-wall, ridiculous job and all my bonds were fueled by frustration and homesickness. It was odd, it was different, it was breathtaking, it was scary, it was freeing, it was me facing my fears, it was bold. It was awesome.

And I never even woke up with a dead hooker in my bed...so I can imagine how some other people feel about this place!

Tuesday, August 17, 2010

Nice try, Health Nuts! If that is your REAL name...




Stop wasting paper, XSport. I will not be joining your gym. Your eagerness to take my money makes me think you are less interested in my fitness than I am...and look at what I ate today! Screw you. Stop soliciting on my car.

I am currently disgusted by "formerly"s

The Today Show... Why do I bother?

This morning, Meredith interviewed Stephanie Dolgoff, author of the book "My Formerly Hot Life." One day, Dolgoff awoke to find she was no longer a spring chicken but she also wasn't an old bat, so she was confused, poor thing. She could have left her husband and family and gone on some pretentious, soul-searching adventure through a foreign land, but someone already wrote that book, and now Julia Roberts is portraying the author in the film. Old. Hat.

What could she do but start another movement of epically, nonsensical proportions? She decided she was no longer a "young, hot girl" she was... "a formerly." Apparently, this is something women who are hitting their 40's are realizing, and they're all pouncing on Dolgoff's book like those shiny, green flies you see swarming around dead things or a pile of shit. Which is appropriate, because that's what all of this is... a pile of festering bullshit.

I am sick of women bitching about being women. Yes, sometimes we are discriminated against because of our tits, and that is upsetting. We can also rule the world with those things because, as a general rule, straight men are kind of dumb and entranced by them, and we should use that shit to our advantage. (And I'm not talking about whoring it up. Though, if that's your thing, go right ahead.)

Stephanie Dolgoff irritated me several times throughout the interview. "...when I became a formerly..." That is not a thing, Dolgoff!! You can't invent a term and then become that thing. What gives you the authority? You're just a chick whose boobs rest a bit lower! You're still a pretty lady. Get over yourself. She pissed me off the most when the following happened:

Meredith: You became, what you called "an adult tween" and it happened while you were riding on the subway. What happened?

Adult tween? You've already lost me, but I'm too busy getting dressed for work to change the station

Stephanie: Well I met my husband on the subway and back then I was considered, you know, pretty hot and flirting on the subway was a standard...

Are you kidding me with this? But wait... there's more

Stephanie:...And um, a guy said, "Excuse me, what time is it?" And I was like [insert eye roll here], "Ugh... here we go again..." And he just really wanted to know what time it was.

Meredith: He wasn't trying to pick you up.

I'm vocal now

Me: Seriously?

Stephanie: Not in any way, shape, or form. There was a series of signs, but that was one of them.

Me: Oh, please. Shut. The fuck. Up.

Yeah, there's a stigma attached to women aging and their sexuality but, according to Dolgoff, it's something that "no one was talking about." Really? Because I think it was called Sex and the City, and I'm pretty sure it also sucked. As a woman myself, I don't think I want to take advice from a former conceited bitch who woke up one day and realized gravity happens. I am somewhat confident, somewhat quirky and weird. I was that way before I started menstruation and I will be that way when I am perimenopausal. I do not need pretentious housewives with too much time on their hands telling me how to live my life as a woman by writing books. Unless I undergo surgery, I have no choice but to live my life as a woman, because I was born with these parts.

Stephanie Dolgoff and women like her act as if there's a day you wake and realize you have T&A, soft skin, better fashion choices and, therefore, this makes you different and you should automatically fight for equality for your own kind. I'm all for fighting for that, but if you aren't being directly oppressed at the time, then what the hell are you bitching about? Rights to equal pay = an important issue. Not getting hit on by strangers on the train once you've hit 40= not an issue. You have a husband. Go drink some fucking wine and stop being such a baby. Or, if standing up for human rights is your thing, why not speak on someone's behalf? Perhaps it could be for a person (or group of persons)currently dealing with a legitimate issue.

P.S. I act every now and then and would love to be in the film version of your book, Stephanie. But, I don't have excessive amounts of underarm flap yet, so we may need to put that off for another decade or two. Think about it. Get back to me. I love a good parody.

Friday, August 13, 2010

Leave her alone

America has a plethora of problems, many of them too heavy for little old me to deal with on this blog that is read by a whopping ten or so people. But there is something going on in this country that's been a constant for the past six years or so, and I'd like to take a moment to address it. We've got to stop projecting our feelings and thoughts onto Jennifer Aniston.


Look at her.

There she is, our old friend, Jen. Remember...she was on that show about some friends? And it was charming and great for the 90's and all that jazz. Then she did movies and none of them were good and that was sad. But, could you hate her? Apparently so. Jennifer Aniston recently said, "Women are realizing it more and more, knowing that they don't have to settle with a man just to have that child," ... "Love is love and family is what is around you and who is in your immediate sphere."

People. Are. Freaking. Out.
I. Do. Not. Understand.

For starters, who cares what she says? She's Jennifer Aniston. It isn't as if she runs our country. Wait... does she?! Yet people want to lash out at her for various reason, all of which seem pretty ridiculous when analyzed. And nothing pleases me more than analyzing stupid shit other people say. It is as if I have a crap ton of time on my hands. Here is some of the backlash Jen has received this week:

1- She is dishonoring all the men out there who are good fathers. Nothing feels better on a hot summer's day than putting words into someone's mouth. See, Jennifer Aniston isn't dishonoring men who are great fathers, because Jennifer Aniston did not say jack shit about men who are great fathers. She is simply stating a fact: There are women out there who are raising children alone. They have the means, they are single, and they are still raising well-rounded children. Newsflash! It is 2010. No one knows the Cleavers anymore. There are all kinds of singles out there raising kids alone... men and women. Do women need a man physically present in order to have a baby? Not after insemination, they don't. Would it be ideal? Yes. But is it possible to raise a child as a single mom and still bring positive male influences into its life? Absolutely.

To say that Aniston is dishonoring men who are good dads by saying this is like saying she puts down all women who choose to go through their lives without starting families at all. It is irrelevant, because that's not what the quote is about. Stop putting words in her mouth.

2-Teenagers who read this will think it is okay to have a baby. What? I'm sorry, let me repeat that. WHAT?! Not only is this a complete and utter head-up-your-ass statement but, even if Jen announced on Oprah to all teens they should get pregnant and be single moms, I'd call bullshit. Why? What teenagers are listening to the words of Jennifer Aniston? That's why. Bogus. If a teen girl reads the words of a celebrity and decides to follow them like gospel, the issues are deep-rooted and lie with the parents (or parent). Celebrities are not here to raise your children. They are here to be annoying and distract us from the world's real problems. Use your heads, please.

3-She's in that place because she's in her 40's and hasn't found Mr. Right. All I could think of for this segment is "Fuck you," but that seems really immature and as stupid as the statement itself. Why is the media still painting Aniston as this desperate woman who can't land a man? Maybe, just maybe, girl doesn't want a man. And, you know what? This is perfectly acceptable as she was married before to an actor who cheated on her. It isn't as if one of Angie's tattoos sprang to life and snatched poor, wittle Brad into her orbit. Just because those two are adopting orphans from here to Mars and feeding the hungry and building homes for folks doesn't mean they're...saints...necessarily. (Okay. Fine. They're good people. Still, though, there was infidelity.) If my ex was an actor who cheated on me with his co-star while on location some where, I'd be a little gun shy about jumping into another relationship for sure. Wouldn't anyone? Especially if that person is in a business where all she meets other actors... you know...people who are often shooting films on location...away... where it is easy to cheat?

Is she less of a woman because she chooses to remain single? No. And to hell with you if you think so. Girl seems happy. Leave it alone.

Let us not forget the most important thing of all... Jennifer Aniston, though she may not be a good one, is an actress. She has a new movie coming out. That movie is about a woman in her 40's who decides to inseminate herself so she can have a kid, because she is not married and wants to be a mom. Hmm... I wonder if her recent quotes have anything to do with promoting a movie? How odd! Man, with the economy the way that it is, if Elijah Wood were promoting Lord of the Rings right now, I'd verbally abuse the hell out of him if he chatted nonchalantly about tossing some gold into a fiery pit. What a fucker.

My point? Jennifer Aniston said a thing that isn't very important, so shut up. She's simply stating that women are independent and can do shit on their own and that the nuclear family, though ideal, is not going to exist in every situation where children are concerned. I find it a bit of an insult to the feminist movement that she should be attacked for saying such things. Quite frankly, I'd rather be smacked on the ass by my boss and called "hot lips" as thanks for a job well done.

Thursday, August 12, 2010

Figure it out



Really trying to figure out why this pizza is called "The Georgia."
Here's the description:

Cumin-scented Santa Fe chicken sausage is tempered by the mellow crunch of poblano peppers and finished with smooth Ricotta cheese. Where fierce passion and cool objectivity coincide—like a ride through the New Mexico landscape.

Saturday, August 7, 2010

A week's worth of TV


I've been lying around all week learning how to be a human again...as you do when you get the sickness. That means a ton of television. Bad, bad television. Most of it was old episodes of "Roseanne" but I had to find something else to watch when the Conners weren't around to keep me happy.

Here's some shit I heard this week:

HER: We chose TJ Maxx for our destination wedding. I love the store. Every time I walk into the store I might run into my mom, or my aunt, and, well, he knows how important the store is to me.

HIM: Every time we go anywhere...

HER: Hotel has to be within five miles of a TJ Maxx...I'll be walking down the shoe aisle. It's going to be really tempting not to stop for shoes, but...he's better. He's better than a pair of shoes.
- from The Today Show theme wedding segment




"I'm getting ready to go out...with Anthony. I always looked at him strictly as a friend. And then, every time we hung out, we would just always kiss. Ya know? And it was just like...I don't get it. What are we? Friends that kiss? It wasn't until very, very recently that the wheels of my mind...started to turn and it kinda clicked that... I may have feelings for him." - Angela from True Life: I'm a Staten Island Girl

Thursday, August 5, 2010

Wednesday, July 28, 2010

Ass.

403 Forbidden: The server understood the request, but is refusing to fulfill it.

What a stubborn, insubordinate bastard, you are, Work Server!

Email accident

I am tired.
Zombielike and stuff.

The following is an email exchange betwixt coworkers and myself. Please note, I have a coworker named Betsy Stone, not Brian Stone. You should also know that I do not know her email and had to ask for it prior to this exchange.

from CASEY PILKENTON
to BOXCO
11:30AM

One, piping hot shift from 9am to 4pm this Friday.
If you don't take it... I will cry. I. Need. Sleep.

Please?
Casey

------------------------------------------------
from MEG HUNTSMAN
to CASEY PILKENTON
11:50AM
I will take it! Don't cry. I. Need. Money. Just got my first list of textbooks for fall...:p

-------------------------------------------------
from CASEY PILKENTON
to BOXCO
11:51AM

Meg is the winner!!!!!
Thanks, Meg


-------------------------------------------------

from BRIAN STONE
to CASEY PILKENTON
12:02pm

Count me in!!!

----------------------------------------------

from CASEY PILKENTON
to BRIAN STONE
12:09pm

Brian,

I never intended for you to take part in this. This was a mistake.
I do, however, appreciate your enthusiasm for being a psychic medium, and if you'd like to work with us on Friday, I can give you directions to our location and tell you what to wear. The newbs always bring the lunch. I like chicken salad, but as I won't be here, you can bring whatever you like.

Get back to me immediately if this is still enticing.

-Casey


-------------------------------------------------------

from BRIAN STONE
to CASEY PILKENTON
12:11pm

I'm a psychic medium. I already know the location, directions and what to wear.

-----------------------------------------------------
from CASEY PILKENTON
to BRIAN STONE
12:12pm

Great! They'll be looking for you at 9am

Monday, July 26, 2010

YouTube Comments

This is a comment left on my favorite new video:


12 people jizzed uncontrollably and accidentaly clicked the dislike button

Indeed they did.

Pardon me, Twitter

But this is...awesome.

Sean T Sm00vE_#youlostmyrespect wen u told me ur man was gettin dropped off by his moms for yall date... #hesthirty

Friday, July 23, 2010

Unicorn!



Hip!Hip!Hooraaaaaay!

Po'm

A band of starving artists
With intergrity to accrue
Once found themselves employed
By the notorious Abram Blue

Young Abram was a trixter
Yet his heart was mainly pure
He'd hypnotize his loved ones
And erase all pain they had endured

"The problem with the practice
of hypnosis," Abram said
"Is that no one can believe it
Lest that person be brain dead."

This notion made him grimace
Til he conjured up an inkling
"Create the world around them!
Make them see what they are thinking."

He'd need a team of cunning
And outlandish, dream creators
Blue would be their master
A sort of creativeness curator

Blue, he searched far and wide
For his perfect candidates
For artists who needed sustenance
And joy from what they'd create

He came across Madeline
A modern vaudeville act
Who never made it through a show
With her clothing still intact

There was Barty Till, the strongman
Seamus Mick the painter
Daniel worked in magic
He was a cocky, chronic fainter

Liberty Weiss a songstress
Was a capable, lovely diva
With Meg & Mike's accomp'niment
She sounded great, you best believe-a

Carys rounded out the group
An artiste extraordinaire
With Blue they were a fellowship of nine
But they had no ring to bear

They set out to make millions
Enhancing the myth of hypnosis
They started helping elders
And those with a ghastly diagnosis

Then one day they were caught
By the husband of a wife
He told them he could sue them
Or perhaps he'd take a life

He gathered up the evidence
To charge them for their crimes
And off they went to People's Court
Airing 4pm, Eastern Standard time

The Blue team seen as liars
Were a media sensation
Selling magazines and air time
'Cross this proud, hypocritical nation

And so there came their fame
In a twisted, ironic form
Embrace by Hollywood elite
For being a touch off from the norm

Some found their way
Others didn't fit in
The liars took up residence
In the land of artistic sin

Then one day she came forth
She spoke out loud and plainly
"I was depressed and dying,
Twas these people who have saved me."

This filled older Abram with pride
And his charges felt it too
This lady, she felt joy
The mission of hynotist Blue

The judge threw out the case
Or perhaps he really didn't
For these are the makings of a screenplay
That has yet to be written...writ'nt