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Random Friday

I’ve only got two things today:

1. Two people have found my site by searching for “natalie portman panties.” That’s magnificent. Although it was probably a disappointment for those people. So let it be known:

There are no pictures of Natalie Portman in panties on this blog.

Sorry, perverts, you’re going to have to look elsewhere for your fake celebrity porn.

***

2. Remember my musical about shopping? Well, I found the dress that would have started it all if the movie was set in Mexico in the sixties:

See? Fabulous.

So, if we move the setting to Mexico, we’re going to have to recast. Obviously, Paz Vega will play the Anne Hathaway part. I think Rory Gilmore should be played by Maria from Harold and Kumar Go To White Castle.

And the devil? Alfred Molina, of course.

(Side note: Has anyone else had a really hard time watching Maverick since Mel Gibson unleashed his dickery on the world? That’s what I hate you for most, Mel Gibson. I loved that movie.)

I don’t even know if Alfred Molina sings, but doesn’t it just seem like he should?

Also, since it’s set in Mexico, we can make it telenovela style. Which means that, instead of having to choose between the three endings (dance fight, game show battle, or communist propaganda) we can do all three!

Joss Whedon, I know you’re still interested. Give me a call.

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A master class in segue-writing

Okay, I have three topics I want to cover today, and it’s not random day, so brace yourself for some cutting edge segues.

First up:

I went shopping this weekend. It was a roller coaster ride, let me tell you. Turns out, shopping isn’t quite as fun when you’ve gained weight.

So, my first day of shopping, I decided to go to the cheapest places first – Goodwill and thrift stores. The fun thing about these places is that there isn’t any kind of uniform sizing, so every trip to the dressing room is full of surprises. You could be trying on a size 8 from 2010 or a size 8 from 1985, which are very different because of a phenomenon known as “vanity sizing.” If you are not a girl, you most likely don’t have to deal with vanity sizing. Vanity sizing is what happens when we, as a society, attach some sort of value to the size of the clothing we wear. Basically, it means that a size 6 is not what it once was. So all those people who like to comfort overweight women by saying, “You know, Marilyn Monroe wore a size 16” are being a little disingenuous. Marilyn Monroe’s size 16 was something like our size 6.

So what this means if you shop at Goodwill is that you can bring four pairs of size 8 pants into the fitting room, and only one of them comes close to fitting. Close to fitting. Not quite there.

So I left Goodwill empty-handed. And, contrary to the name on the door, with absolutely no good will. Liars.

I visited two more thrift stores that day, same results, each time with even less good will. Which, if you’ll recall, I had none of when I left Goodwill. So I ended the day at about -10 good will. With no new clothes.

Since I had such a shitty time shopping on the first day, my husband promised me that he would take me shopping on Monday and chauffeur me around and carry my bags and not complain at all. It sounds like an impossible task, but this is the man who puts up with me and my never-ending pile of bullshit every single day. If anyone can do it, he can.

He lasted through three stores and about five conversations that ended with me saying, “Oh my god, just give me an opinion! You’re so bad at this.”

My hero. *sigh* You know, he might be better than Jason Bateman. Might.

Ah, Jason Bateman.

Oh! I forgot that the reason I told you the shopping story is that I am now the proud owner of several pairs of pants that actually fit! Yay me! And I’ve now realized what a profound effect properly fitting clothes have on my mood. Which is kind of scary. I mean, that something so small could change my entire outlook on life. (This might not seem particularly scary to you, but I guarantee you, my husband is freaking the fuck out right now. Yeah, dude, that’s what you’re dealing with.)

What was I talking about? Oh, right. Jason Bateman. Mmmmmm.

Speaking of obsessions that started in childhood but have somehow survived the growing up process and continue to plague me to this day,* I’m scared of clowns.

Like most people around my age, I can pinpoint exactly when this fear started: Stephen King’s It. I, of course, am not talking about the book. I’m talking about the tv miniseries that aired in 1990 and starred Tim Curry as the scariest clown ever conceived. If you have never seen this miniseries, I recommend you Netflix it right now. I’m not going to tell you much except that Tim Curry plays a clown that is the embodiment of evil and lives in the sewer and in the end turns out to be, like most Stephen King villains, a giant spider.

Oh, um, spoiler alert I guess.

But seriously, even if you haven’t seen it, you just have to imagine Tim Curry as a clown and you’re pretty much where me and all the other 8-year-olds were when that aired.

So, in keeping with the current trend of remaking movies that don’t need to be remade, a reboot of It is in the works. I can’t imagine this working.

First of all, you’ve got Tim Curry as the villain. I know I’ve already said that, but I just don’t think you can get past it. It’s like replacing Jaws in Jaws with…anything other than Jaws. You’ve already attained perfection. How can you go beyond that?

In addition, the miniseries has a running time of 193 minutes. I know there are a lot of movies out now that run longer than three hours, but I hardly think that’s something we should be perpetuating. I tend to agree with Alfred Hitchcock, who said that the length of a film should be directly related to the endurance of the human bladder. And I don’t have a three-hour bladder.

Here’s the other thing. I don’t know how many of you have actually read It. You should. It’s a good book, I like it quite a bit. But, in the book, there’s a part that was left out of the made-for-tv-so-it-has-to-be-appropriate-for-all-the-eight-year-olds-we’re-going-to-traumatize version.

***OH MY GOD. SPOILER ALERT. JUST READ THE BOOK. JESUS.***

I am, of course, referring to the obligatory gang-bang-in-the-sewer scene that you find in every tale of good versus evil. No, I’m not kidding. Starring 11-year-olds. No, I’m really not kidding.

How you gonna film that, Hollywood? Huh?

Hopefully they’ll leave that part out.

Speaking of things that would be difficult to translate into film,** I’ve been listening to Pandora at work a lot lately. Little tip for Pandora users: Make a Beatles station.

Anyway, I hadn’t listened to Pandora in a while, because I have a problem with it. Now, according to a casual survey of about three people I asked a couple months ago, I’m the only person who considers this a problem, but may I share it with you anyway?

The problem I have with Pandora is that it plays music that’s all the same. I get that that’s the idea, but I also thought that it would use my initial band or song as a jumping off point, and that it might stray from that exact kind of song occasionally. I guess I’m the only person who has Tom Petty, Ani DiFranco and Buffy the Musical on the same playlist.

Anyway, having not been to the site in a while, I was delighted when I visited on Tuesday and it connected with my facebook page to make a station based on what bands I said I liked on facebook. My first thought: Awesome! My second thought: Crap, I haven’t updated that in a while, I should make sure it has all the stuff I’m obsessed with right now. So I did that.

Now, a lot of the stuff I have listed is chick singers who all kind of sound alike, like Ingrid Michaelson, Feist, Mirah, etc. So I figured I’d add some other stuff I like to add variety. So I add RHCP and System of a Down, just to give some depth. And of course, as we all know, Feist + System of a Down = Metallica. I find no flaw in your math, Pandora. However:

I fucking hate Metallica.

And no, old Metallica is not any better. They always sucked.

Three Metallica songs in 10 minutes. After I thumbs-down 3 Metallica songs, you’d think that might indicate that I don’t like Metallica. Well, unless you’re Pandora, that is.

So that’s when I created my Beatles station. That, plus my well-fitting pants turned my whole day around.

*Cutting Edge Segue #1
**Cutting Edge Segue #2 You know Pandora would be difficult to translate into a movie. Don’t even act like I’m wrong.

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I call it “Hugh Jackman Steals Anne Hathaway’s Soul by Helping Her Shop for Pretty Dresses.” Title needs work.

So I’ve been thinking a little more about the musical about shopping, and I think, in order to get Joss Whedon involved, we’re going to have to go darker. Here’s what I’ve got so far:

Anne Hathaway is a shopgirl in some fancy New York department store, helping much richer (and meaner) women find great clothes. Opening number: Everything Must Go.

The store decides to drive traffic by having a drawing: anyone who buys this certain dress gets entered into a drawing to win a $50,000 shopping spree (obviously this will be the dress that started it all).  Musical Number: A Light at the End of the Subway Tunnel.

So, of course Anne Hathaway wins the drawing, because all the other people who entered were less-famous actresses. When she shows up to claim her prize, they tell her she’ll have a personal shopper to help her decide what to buy. Enter Hugh Jackman.

Then we’ll have a Pretty Woman-style shopping montage. Musical Number: Do You Have This In Size Negative Two?

As Anne Hathaway shops, slowly chipping away at the $50,000, we notice that she’s getting bitchier and bitchier. It turns out, with every outfit she buys, she’s losing a part of her soul! Dun dun DUN. And Hugh Jackman is the devil! Dun dun DUN!

(Note: This is actually what happens to you when you spend $50,000 on clothes. Exhibit A: Paris Hilton.)

Anne Hathaway figures out what’s going on with the help of her shopgirl friend, played by the less-famous-but-still-recognizable actress, Rory Gilmore. Musical Number: You Used To Be So Much Cooler.

Anne Hathaway confronts Hugh Jackman, who admits the truth and tells her there’s no way to stop the process now because she’s already lost too much of her soul. Then we realize that all the women who come to Anne Hathaway’s store have lost their souls. Dun dun DUN again! Musical Number: Everything Must Go (Reprise).

Now, here we can go a couple of different ways, and remember: we’re trying to make this attractive to Joss Whedon.

  1. We can  go with the classic ending: A fight scene between a girl and the devil set in a department store. A dancing fight. It will be pretty and violent. But not like West Side Story. No snapping.
  2. Since she’s fighting the devil, there’s always the option of having them play a game where the winner gets her soul. May I suggest: Temptation, The New Sale of the Century.
  3. But, we could also go with the darker ending and have her lose her soul entirely. The movie would end with Rory Gilmore winning a shopping spree and Anne Hathaway being her “personal shopper.” This one wins us bonus points as a communist propaganda movie that shows the evils of capitalism.

Which ending sounds best to you? I’m voting communist propaganda, as usual.

I think we’ve got a winner here. Joss, I’ll be expecting your call.

P.S. By the way, this is based on a true story.

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Friday is Random Day

Well, okay, for me every day is Random Day. But officially, on this blog, only Friday is Random Day.

Here goes:

I think we should change the phrase from “crazy like a fox” to “crazy like a velociraptor.” It’s much more apt. But maybe I’ve been reading too much xkcd.

***

Due to a discussion on facebook about this dress, and how it makes me want to star in a musical about shopping, now all I can think about is how somebody needs to make a musical about shopping. It can star Anne Hathaway and Hugh Jackman, with music by Joss Whedon. Choreography by whoever did Xanadu.

I’m on to something here.

***

I have a back-up camera in my car, but I don’t trust it. I’ll start out looking at the screen before I back up, which seems to tell me that there’s nothing behind me. But  then I’ll get paranoid and turn around really quick to see if something’s hiding just outside the camera’s line of sight. Then, since there’s nothing there,  I’ll turn back to the screen with a guilty conscience. It’s not my fault, Back-up Camera. I was raised to believe that cameras couldn’t be trusted. That they’d steal your soul and add ten pounds. I’m sorry. I’d love to say that I’ll never doubt you again, but I’m afraid that’s just a promise I can’t keep.

***

Sometimes, my husband reads me so well that I start to wonder if he can read my mind. Then I think, no, I have countless examples of times he said ridiculous, thoughtless things that he would never have said if he could read my mind. Then I think, what if he’s trying to throw me off the track by saying those stupid things, so he can continue reading my mind without me getting suspicious? So then I’ll think about something really outrageous that would surely get a reaction out of him, like an elaborate scene of slapstick midget porn. And he doesn’t react.

I still think he’s just trying to throw me off the scent. I’m on to you, buddy.

***

My (formerly) secret reason for starting this blog is so that I can meet The Bloggess and become best friends with her.

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If you haven’t already heard, I’m trying to get the phrase “like a bird in a whale’s mouth” on tv. It’s a thing. It’s supposed to be sort of an experiment, like when you’d write your name on a dollar and see if it ever came back to you. But now I’m thinking of it as trying to get something I wrote on television. Anyway, help spread the word!

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