Pepto and Drano

That was a special present to get on Christmas morning. I had a flu bug incubating in me that decided to show itself in a wonderful package of half digested tri-tip and artichokes. I'm grateful that it was contained in my sink for a slightly less complicated clean up. I'm grateful for my boyfriend who rushed over, dumped a bottle of Drano into my sink. (He came with the special pink bottle as well.) I'm grateful that I made it to my parents home so I could pass out on the couch and writhe in discomfort until my fever broke. It was difficult, but waking up no longer afraid to eat is a wonderful gift. It make the new cookware from my parent's easier to enjoy. Here's to a more comfortable new year.

Happy Christmas Moment

Because everyone deserves a few minutes of this.

Celebrity Sighting # Awesome!

To be fair, this wasn't like the golf tournament where we followed them. This was a show and after party. I mentioned before that I bought tickets for Laughs for Bald Bryan. Well, I have returned and I come with more to add to my list.

First of all, this was an amazing show and I can't fully compliment all of the performers. It began with the silent auction in the garden an hour and a half before the show. Bald Byran himself was there and I had the chance to have my picture taken with him and my boyfriend. He asked if we had met before. Of course it was no, but I told him it was nice to meet him though I wished it was under different circumstances. Against my wishes, my boyfriend wore his Cal shirt, but it was the conversation starter he said it would be. The picture was the only one that I got that wasn't on my camera. I was told it'll be up on the website in a few days. They better not have been lying to me.

When we got to ten minutes before showtime, I had to have my ritualistic going to the bathroom so I don't have to go during the show. A line formed and I was afraid that we'd be late. In the line one of the volunteers said on the other side was shorter. I bolted and dragged my man with me, even though he was skeptical about trying to take a shortcut. Well, we found a line even longer and I was hurt. However, when we made it to the front, Teresa Strasser was there with Eric Stromer. I introduced myself and said hello even though she was blocking my way. Thinking I wouldn't get the chance again, I walked into the theater thinking I missed my photo opportunity. The second the usher showed us to our seats the lights went down.

What followed was an amazing show consisting of Adam thanking us for coming, Bald Bryan saying a few words to the audience, What Can't Adam Complain About? Loveline questions with Dr. Drew, Greg Fitsimmons, Dana Gould, The Dan Band, a live auction with Eric Stromer, comedy with Larry Miller, Joel McHale, and a mini Bad Religion concert. The whole time, Jimmy Kimmel found his way to the stage with beers and toasted a la The Man Show.

My videos were crappy. Thank you YouTube.

The evening was great until I injured my foot on the way to the after party. There was blood, hobbling, and cursing to my god, but there was no way in hell I was going to miss this party. I had spent six hours in the car, I would happily be carried the rest of the way.

There was a line to meet Adam on the way in. I said screw it and decided we could get in line later. We came into a quiet party. It was cool because the other performers where there and everyone else was waiting for Adam. We saw Dana Gould. I hate to interrupt, but I knew that I don't get these chances very often. I asked if I could have a few minutes to kiss his ass. Then I got a picture with him. Whooooo!

After that, I actually got into a conversation with Greg Fitsimmons. I mentioned Dr. Katz and how I watched it. After saying a little bit too much about my comedy obsession back when I was younger, he asked me if I was a comedy nerd. Turns out, yes I am. I even told him I wanted to get married in a comedy club. He said get some of the comedians to be the groomsmen. I would be all for it if he was offering (and my brothers wouldn't mind). 

From there I became afraid to approach Teresa Strasser. I guess it was I knew my 'I'm a cute girl and I love your work" schtick wouldn't work. Instead I went back to the Carolla line. I had practiced what I would say since I had bought the tickets. I asked for him to sign my copy of The Hammer, but he said it was already signed. He signed it again though. I told him about my boyfriend's comment on Click it or Ticket and it pretty much fell flat. I think he had had a lot to drink. I worried I insulted him at some point, but my boyfriend told me to not obsess. That's my ego out of control again. So I got my picture and it was cool.

Going back into the party, we started to look for Teresa again, but I saw Joel McHale. I felt bad because my man really wanted to meet Teresa and I was dragging him along to meet all the dudes. I HAD to get a picture with Joel McHale, though. And then I did. Then we went Teresa hunting again.

Again, my urge to not be rude held me back. The people hovering around her were doing the same thing and she was talking to the the Deaf Frat Guy(awesome, eventually shook his hand). So the people before us did the "we'll take a picture for you if you take one for us" thing. They got theirs, but as I was talking to Teresa, the girlfriend of one of the members of Bad Religion came to her with a present. They spoke for a while and the other couple was looking at me like, "hey, we got your camera, come on now!" So Teresa turns to me and says " Isn't this pretty?" I said yes and used the opening to keep talking. I got the picture and told her thank you and to never stop what she's doing. She was touched and gave me a hug. As I was in the hug, I added unless she wants to. I was caught off guard. But yeah! My second celebrity hug.

On the way out, we say Larry Miller. Got a shot with him too. As he walked away, another guy asked him if he wanted Purell. Screw you guy. Oh well. We sat down and could hear Lynn and Alex, but I still don't know who is who. We debated if we should talk to them, but decided against it. It was time to call it a night. I limped back to the car and smiled. A good show for a great cause. I hope the best for Bald Bryan.

Guilty Observation

And all things lead back to Adam Carolla. Okay, in order to get the whole story, I have to start with today's Podcast. He has told this story before, but now I've connected the dots. Apparently his junior high school girlfriend grew up to be an actress. He finally said her name and some of the movies she had been in. We'll she's no Joyce Hyser, but she did play the chick in Teen Wolf Too.

First thing on my resume: Did it with Jason Bateman.

Hey, that was one of my guilty pleasures as a kid. I recorded off of TBS and watched it a thousand times. Of course I memorized the edited version. Same thing happened with Ferris Bueller ("It's not a piece of tin!") and Vacation ("Who do I look like? Christopher Colombo?"). Supernatural aspects aside, it was just one of those teen movies here you root for the geek to get the girl. But Teen Wolf Too was different. You want the geek geek boy to realize the hot chick isn't really for him, unlike the geek girl that's been in front of him the whole time. (Totally different. Much like the plot of this movie and it's predecessor. Boxing in college is not the same as basketball in high school.)

The point is this sent me on a internet voyage through pictures and reminiscing about other movies in the same vein. You know, My Best Friend is a Vampire, Zapped!, My Boyfriend's Back; movies I should have never wasted the original hour and a half to see, let alone countless that I used watching again and again (My dad would ask me if I though the ending would change.). The voyage ended with me spending more time than I would like to admit watching Just of the Guys on YouTube at work. Good lord, that movie is awful. It's not even in the top three of William Zabka being the bad guy movies. (That would be The Karate Kid, the first few minutes of The Karate Kid, Part II, and Back to School.)

I come home and waste even more time watching My Best Friend is Vampire. I had the biggest crush on Robert Sean Leonard. I love and (and for obvious reasons hate) Dead Poet's Society. And now he's Wilson on House. Granted my attracted as switched to a different doctor on that show, but I digress. So I'm watching this horrible excuse for a movie and see Kathy Bates in a small role. Holy crap. I guess Academy Award winning actors have to start somewhere. And that when I noticed it. My Boyfriend's Back had Phillip Seymour Hoffman. Buffy the Vampire Slayer had Hilary Swank (and Ben Affleck if you watch closely). There's probably more but I don't want to force connections by hunting for them. They should be organic.

I actually mentioned to my boyfriend that the whole Joyce Hyser fading into obscurity gives me hope for Megan Fox doing the same in twenty years. Lack of talent (and if you don't believe me, watch the movie without the scene with her boobs) will eventually result in fewer roles. And the background people will emerge to the top of the A list. Or at least that's my theory.

Get Mind Out of Gutter

Actually, put it back in for a second. On the same shopping trip but at Target, I wander through the board game area and see this.

The rocket vapor trail is not helping.

Okay, what do you read when you just glance at the box? Seriously, people. And the description says the game "will inspire you to use your creativity, wit and sense of humor in ways you've never imagined." I think I'll stop writing here.

Holiday Ducks

On a Cost Plus shopping trip I found my way to the front of the store and encountered a bucket of rubber duckies. I love ducks and am a sucker for non-traditional rubber ducks. I look down and the first one I see is one with a dradle and yarmulke. Awesome! Then I see a Santa duck. I could see where this theme was going. On the side was one where I couldn't see the front, but the back feathers were light brown. My mind immediately jumped to "Yes! Everyone in my family is getting one of these bad boys."

Come on, what would you assume?

But alas, I did not reach in the bucket and pull out a Kwanzaa duck. Instead I got a gingerbread duck with a chef hat. What the hell? First off, I had to convince myself that I wasn't racist by assuming the pattern goes Christmas, Hanukkah, Kwanzaa. Then I sadly, I moved away from the bucket without the greatest holiday gift of all. How dare you Cost Plus. World Market my ass!

Laughing Makes Me Feel Bad

When I was in ninth grade, Dana Carvey came to my town. It was a benefit for an old friend of his who needed to raise funds to pay for medical bills. My two best friends were into Saturday Night Live and we could quote things like crazy. It was a hundred bucks for the show and the after-show reception. I could not pass up the opportunity so we went. And it was awesome. At least I remember that I had an awesome time.

It's happening again. Only replace Dana Carvey with Adam Carolla. And instead it's Laughs For Bald Bryan. This time the one that needs monetary help, I can pronounce his name. I can tell you the name of his wife and where he graduated from college. (I can even hum some of the fight song.) That just makes it worse. I get to laugh and meet celebrties and have a story to tell because he's sick. Is it wrong to seize the moment to meet famous people because one of their own needs help? Granted rich people get to buy their way into the movie and TV business because they have the means to finance other's dreams. I don't know if I can focus on the helping part since I'm getting so much more in return. Even further, I have received hours of free entertainment from Bald Bryan. Should I give more? Stupid human emotion.

All right, I'm just going to go, enjoy myself, and consider this my donation to Saint Dude's Hospital. Looking back, I had promised myself that I'd make it to a Carolla event this year. Looks like I made good on my word. I hope it sells out because I want this to be a booming success. Make a donation or buy a ticket at Laughs For Bald Bryan. If you can't, at least take the time to get it on!

Sniff.....WOLVERINES!

I was sad when I read last night that Patrick Swazye had passed. It flashed through my mind: Dirty Dancing, Point Break, Ghost, Red Dawn..... I'm purposefully stopping here because I just don't want to list his filmography. He contributed memorable performances that were beyond the mold. Of course it makes sense with his dancing background and study of Buddism.

I messaged my sister and she reminded me of the Saturday Night Live Chippendales sketch. I laughed because that one was surefire hilarity. And then I was sad because now the two men making me laugh so hard are no longer with us.

To stay strong, I'll just let it turn to something else.

Stranger in a Strange Land

The lights burn my eyes as I try to find my way to the path. I'm frightened of what I may do, or more importantly what can now be done to me. A hand reaches out to me, but I've been warned to be careful and not trust just anyone. Instead I call out for help to one who will not betray me. There is no response. I wait for days. My hope begins to leave me. Finally, my meek request is answered.

Okay, so it's a bit dramatic for my first week on MySpace, but my "Friend Request" has been answered by Teresa Strasser. This is kind of exciting. But I'm starting to wonder which celebrities maintain their own page and which have someone else do it.

The experiment took a turn for the crappy. I had to search my brain and answer the question: who do I love? (This isn't in that if my child and my husband where in the path of a speeding car, who would I save way. Oh, and the answer is why isn't my husband moving his ass and saving our child?) I don't have a big ego either and have been wondering who is worthy of my thoughful questions and gets to be on my blog of one follower. I'm realistic and wondering what do I really want to ask certain people? And sadly, I only have a small list of who I have something to ask. More importantly, I think they'll have something great as a response.

This is more in the realm of, if I could sit down and have a meal and conversation with any three celebrities, who would it be? I already know my answers, but I'm worried that in this hypothetical dinner, I would be left out becasuse I'm quiet and the three all know and are friends with one another. Instead I'm removing the dinner part and asking what's on my mind.

Yes, it sounds like I'm wussing out. But at the same time, this is like jumping off the high dive. I'm experienceing what I was afraid to do before. And the benefit is an artificial relationship with famous people. Who could ask for anything more?

An Experiment

Of course the timing is terrible, but if not now, when?

I'm starting what I'm calling the Interview Experiment. The internet is such a powerful tool that connecting with celebrities is as simple as Skyping a podcast. Okay, to be fair, those words didn't exist ten years ago. My point is I'm planning to defy my social networking site boycott and attempt to reach out to the famous people out there. (It doesn't really count because this is my alter ego. She doesn't pay taxes anyway.)

The full plan is to request an interview. It would only consist of three thoughtful questions that will be sent to them and posted if I receive a reply. I'm curious to see who will respond. Here goes nothing....

If I don't post back in fifteen minutes, just wait longer.

"Sixteen Candles" John Hughes?

"You know that guy, too? That fuckin' guy. He made this flick Sixteen Candles. Not bad. There's tits in it, but no bush, but Ebert over here don't give a shit about that kind of thing 'cause he's, like, all in love with this John Hughes guy. He goes out and rents, like, every one of his movies. Fuckin' Breakfast Club, where all these stupid kids actually show up for detention. Fuckin' Weird Science, where this chick wants to take her gear off and get down, but oh no, she don't 'cause it's a PG movie. And then, Pretty in Pink, which I can't even watch with this tubby bitch anymore, 'cause every time we get to the part where the redhead hooks up with her dream guy, he starts sobbin' like a little bitch with a skinned knee and shit. And there's nothing worse than watchin' a fuckin' fat man weep."

Rather than go the more logical Ferris Bueller quote "Life moves pretty fast. You don't stop and look around once in a while, you could miss it." I think that Dogma summarizes how I really feel about John Hughes' impact on pop culture.

A great man indeed. Thank you for what you gave to the world.

Celebrity Sighting #13

You see white people have names like Lenny whereas black people have names like Carl. Okay yes, I exaggerate, but that was the basic premise I got from my trip to see Tommy Davidson last weekend. I met up with my old college friends and it was a late night. That could have altered my perception of funny, but the whole time, I just didn't get it.

I guess they could be called improv skills, but for me he had some serious ADD. He would start a bit, go back to an earlier bit and then start a third. I was ready to skip all three and go home. I was more focused on getting my two drink minimum. I think to wash this bad taste from my brain, I'll get some old episodes of In Living Color. At least then I can control the volume if he goes all manic again.

Excursion to Vegas Jr.

Anyone who has been to downtown Reno knows not to have high expectations. It's Reno. You will not see a roller coaster, mini Eiffel Tower, or even people on the street with cards advertising cheap hookers (*excuse me, naked escorts). You will, however, get the cheap buffets, bright lights that keep you up when you don't close the blinds to your room, and panhandlers. So I go with my low expectations. In fact the last time I was there, I had such low expectations, that I had a freaking fantastic time. Sadly, that great time raised my expectations and my most recent outing resulted in some disappointments.

For starters, I had to pay for my room. How dare you. I haven't had to pay for a room the last five times I've been there. I know, I sound like an idiot. But in Reno, I get a small taste of the celebrity lifestyle where they hand you free stuff left and right. Free room, slot play, dinning credits. I got used to it. On this trip, the well was dry and I became a miser.

Don't get me wrong. I took out more money than I should have and lost more than I care to admit, but I considered it to be my last hurrah(interestingly enough at Harrahs). I bought a house, so I would be in miser mode for the next thirty years, or when I gained a second income.

So on my last gaming adventure, what did I do? I spent hours in the Circus Circus carnival area obsessed with winning stuffed gorillas. Yeah, I had a fight with my boyfriend. I really, really, really wanted to win them. They were at this fishing game where you have a magnet attached to a pole and you had to fish out the red disc in a sea of yellow ones. It was two bucks a shot. If you got the yellow, you won the small toy. If you got the red, you won the medium. The gorillas were extra large. So in the best case, four mediums for one gorilla. I wanted all three. It was a mission.

Yes, I have a problem. But I also have three gorillas in my bedroom upstairs. Obviously, I won the fight. He did have a point that he shouldn't encourage my "I want that!" attitude. But I have the best counterargument: I'm paying for it myself. I think any man would agree that makes it okay. Four plastic bags of stuffed animals serve as a great reminder that I have issues. Cute plushy issues. And the best part was getting a compliment from the booth worker that we were good because we were patient. I stood there very still waiting for the red disc while kids around me messed up quickly and walked away with their small bear. We called them failure bears. And we left with three of them.

Going back to my low expectations thing, I have found that Circus Circus has my favorite buffet. I've been to the fancy expensive buffets before. It usually ends up the same for me: fried chicken, mashed potatoes, and prime rib. So when you use a coupon and end up paying six bucks for two of you to get the same amount and still end up with your prime rib, fried chicken and mashed potatoes, what's the problem? Also, bonus: drink station eliminates waiting for someone to bring you a second glass of water when you should be on your fourth. Did I forget to mention that this was a breakfast buffet? I really enjoyed the first round of waffles, eggs and bacon. You know the best dessert to got with that? That's right, prime rib.

I also should note that in casinos, any gambler can walk up and get your meal comped. I think there is a special feeling to paying six bucks for two buffets. It takes more effort and it makes the meal sweeter. You also don't think back to the three hundred you dropped for the ten dollar dinning comp. Coupon baby!

Sadly by the end of the trip, I had used all the cash I brought (including a trip the ATM). I have to give myself credit though because our car got held hostage due to an investigation by the Reno police into possible hazardous materials in the parking garage (I know it sounds like a lame ass excuse to stay an extra night, but being snowed in doesn't work in July.) and I only pulled an extra hundred from my account. In all seriousness, we were set to leave and I had to call in a reservation to check back into the hotel we checked out of six ours earlier. Since it was Sunday, I was able to get a comped room. It was not a sweet moment. I was tired and wanted to go home. Besides, I already had my gorillas, what more did I need? Actually I was sick of gambling. No, I was sick of losing.

The whole purpose of my trip was to visit Lake Tahoe. Naturally since Reno is cheaper, we stayed there and drove out during the day. To be accurate, we were supposed to visit a friend in L.A. And I had requested the time off. Said friend had to make an emergency trip home, so failed to see the point of caravanning south. We postponed. I don't regret the decision.

I was going to wrap this up with my favorite story from the trip, but then I remembered another. There's this area on Friday and Saturday nights at Harrah's called Zone 21. It's where hot chicks (and a token male) in skimpy outfits dance around and deal blackjack. We go through the area and I was a little excited. Of course I noticed right away. The table minimum was five dollars. I had to play. (This is why my boyfriend loves me. He got to stare at the dealer's rack and I got to play cards. Win-win.)

Zone 21: Where more than alcohol impairs your adding skills.

Understand that these were some hot chicks. I'm a majority stockholder on the heterosexual side, but I know hot chicks when they are bouncing in front of me. I also know that they may be able to bag almost any guy in the room, but I have a bachelor's degree in mathematics. The girl we got, bless her heart, was working her first night without supervision (not including the eyes in the ceiling). To be fair, the music was deafening and we could barely hear each other, but it was just me and my man at the table, so we let her take her time. Slower dealing means longer play time. That's why we also enjoy Pai-Gow.

It was an educational experience. I saw my money taken from me even with a winning hand. I also I got to see what happens when a dealer makes a mistake. Since the floor manager didn't see anything, they called it up the security cameras above to review the footage. A few minutes later I had my five bucks back. We did pretty well and we tipped her. Five from me because she was completely apologetic and I knew I was probably going to be the nicest and most understanding person she'd see that entire shift. Five from my boyfriend, because, well, I think she was wearing a push-up. We came back later that evening and watched her hit a hard seventeen to get nineteen. I was out of money by then, but we got up quickly and left. I didn't want to stick around and watch the reactions of anyone else at the table. I had had a tough enough night as it was.

I should write this last story down before I remember any more. On one of my sobering moments of “crap, I'm down more than I wanted”, I went out to grab an overpriced soda from a vending machine for my boyfriend. Two dollars in and I hit the button. Clunk, clunk, clunk, one Sierra Mist. Clunk, clunk, clunk, a second Sierra Mist. Clunk, clunk, clunk, a third Sierra Mist. Cling, cling, cling, cling, two dollars in quarter in the change return. This machine was paying out. I looked at my loot and ran back to the room. I felt bad, but what do you do? Report the machine? Yeah, I know. It's one thing to steal from the discarded room service cart (Hey, it was a sealed can of soda in the hallway. Fair game!). It's another thing to take advantage of a poor machine who just wanted to come out west and be a movie star.

Looking back on the whole experience, there is no doubt that this was my favorite part of the trip. I needed that win. I had reached the point to where I was stealing toilet paper on the way out. Thank goodness I know when to admit I have a problem.

God,

Give me the grace to accept with serenity losing when I have Twenty,

Courage to double-down a soft Seventeen,

And the wisdom to split Aces and Eights.

R.I.P. King of Pop

While I realize that I'm way behind everyone else who managed to write about this mere hours it happened, I still must make my statements. I was at work when my co-worker received a text message that the "child molesting pervert is dead." First of all that's not how I wanted to receive the news. Secondly, I imaging whoever sent that message will not have even one millionth of the impact on the artistic world as Michael Jackson's monkey. Right, not Jackson himself, the monkey. Please, have some respect. A man is dead.

But this brought up some interesting discussion. As casual bystanders and even benefactors of Michael Jackson's work, we can view him in one of three ways. He was either a child predator who deserved punishment, in the eyes of the law, a man charged but never convicted of a heinous crime and just merely an oddball, or one of the greatest and most significant contributors to the art world.

A friend of mine pointed out that for my generation, this is probably as devastating as when my parent's generation heard about the death of John Lennon. I of course had to point out that Lennon was taken but some selfish ass who wanted to be significant. Although tests haven't been completed, I'm sure no bullets were involved yesterday.

But then we now have to break out the conspiracy theories. Jackson was broke and hounded by those who both loved and hated him. It seems like the time to fake a death and fade into obscurity. Strangely with all the skeptics (or is that true believers?) who will file him in the ranks of Elvis, Marilyn Monroe, James Dean, and Tupac, he will be hunted, dead or alive.

Yes, with the plastic surgery, molestation allegations, and hanging of child from balcony antics we tend to forget the 13 number one hits, the greatest selling album of all time, and the introduction of a dance craze that wasn't lame like the Macarena. You cannot deny the legacy and the impact he has had on the world. This isn't like Heath Ledger where we will never know what he would have contributed to the world. I would say Jackson gave the world more than his fair share.

All possible nasty remarks aside, thank you for your artistic contribution to the world. I hope you have found peace.

I'm Keeping My Five Dollars

Today I was standing in line at Wendy's and hoping that I can feed six people for under twenty bucks. My niece is next to me and made the comment that she wants to try their new coffee Frosty thing but hates the commercials. Based on the commercials, she's going to pass.

I was astounded. Despite the thirteen year age difference, we have had the same reaction. A refusal to buy something based on the commercial. I find that strange that the advertising is having the exact opposite intended effect. (I'd comment that it's ironic, but I fear that I will use the word incorrectly. Damn you Alanis Morissette!)

I think back and I remember long conversations with my boyfriend about boycotting Burger King because of that creepy plastic king mascot they now have. (And the Star Trek King-Ons made me shake my head disapprovingly, even in an empty room.) The end result was I love those chicken sandwiches. I'll just give up TV until the wave of ads pass.

Even worse was those Subway five dollar sandwich commercials. First of all, they had two rounds of ads with the annoying song. Then they jump to the "everyday people" singing the song and laughing as they got it wrong. Because that song has entered our culture and now everyone knows it. Like how we "want our bay-back-baby-back-baby-back ribs" or "we'd like to give the world a Coke". Then the "go online and do your own commercial" happened. How dare you insult me this way. I spit on your campaign.

And don't get me started on the Quiznos talking toaster sexually harassing the employee commercial. I've decided I'm going to Togo's from now on. It helps that they have the superior sandwiches, but I shall remain firm on my decision.

So what does this mean that these quite trivial reasons are keeping me from patronizing establishments? Probably that I need to get out more. Or more accurately, I need to stay in and learn to cook. That is, while the TV is off.

In the Land of Spoilers

I live in this vast land of the internet. And in its primitive sister land of print when a computer/ internet connection is not available. And this is a difficult time for me. I speak of course of season finale time.

Just reading my Entertainment Weekly has proven to be a challenge. Of course it's my own damn fault for thinking I can read a entertainment magazine and have what's actually going on in the series not written about. But I move forward and hope that they were just kidding when the wrote that Fauxbituary on one of the Lost characters. I can hope that it's like Six Feet Under and everyone died because that's the premise of the show. "Lost" is a metaphor for death and everyone dies. Just like in real life. Wow, that's deep for someone who has not seen a single episode. And the Dharma Inititaive: that's just Lucifer. Okay, now I'm just making crap up. And I had to be creative finding out how to spell that without getting more spoilers.

The only show I watch consistently, (by that I mean I watch on Hulu on the weekends at my leisure) is Dollhouse. I don't care what the critics are saying, I enjoy this show. The argument is " how can you get attached to a character that has her mind wiped every week?" Answer, you don't have to, necessarily. For starters, you want to know how we got to this point.

You don't have to hate the evil corporation that is pimping out these volunteers. You don't have to root for the next generation Fox Mulder out to rescue the walking dead Dolls. You watch a story in progress and put pieces together. Everyone seems to have a secret, or at the very least a interesting past. I want to know. And I'm invested and entertained with every episode. Thank you Joss Whedon. Mission accomplished.

Sadly, I can't stop reading the internet and I got spoiled on a few things. It took from some of the fun, but I still get to enjoy parts here and there. I even had a conversation recently with a friend about how even watching "scenes from the next episode" can ruin the enjoyment. It messed up House for me because they do the fake-out beginnings. I know the little kid having the asthma attack will be fine. This episode is about the profesional athelete and his possible steriod use. (Sorry. Generic and vauge spoiler alert.) Just watching one at a time on DVD and blocking the image on the menu makes it a magical and complete experience. That is with the exception of the damn spoiler in titles of articles. Come one people, give a chance here!

So in this land I refuse to leave, what is my new challenge? I want to see if I can read Angels and Demons before the movie comes out. With the reviews and articles about to flood the newspapers, magazines, and everything else I consume, I should get cracking. I have a rule where I don't start a new book before I've finished my current. It's odd, I know, but I don't like to mix up my stories. All though I amended the rule to have one fiction and nonfiction book at a time. So I have about four days to go. I'll just pretend I'm at the airport. With no wi-fi. And my phone is dead. And I don't need a nap. (Sigh.) Okay. Wish me luck.

Celebrity Sighting #12

Someone help me, I can't be stopped. The Titus show awoke a need to see and laugh and love again. I got tickets to Joel McHale for the Saturday before Easter. I swear at the time it didn't seem like a bad idea at the time. But it was a birthday present from my man, so I said yes please.

It was in Santa Rosa so we stayed the night in town. It was a nice stress free trip. If course if you were in my family, you'd realize this is not a stress free time and we have soooo much crap going on right now with Easter and my brother's wedding and various work related problems. I guess I can take solace that we all have jobs to stress about.

Anyway, stress free Joel McHale fun. We get to the venue and extra bonus: Chris Hardwick (former Singled Out host and current Attack of the Show contributor) is the opening act. When we sat, I knew we had the worst seats in the house. But it was an intimate venue, so it was enough. It only sucked bcasue all of the seats were the same price.

Before the show started, there were announcements of upcoming performances. Again, I have to be stopped. I wanted to run out and get tickets to Frank Caliendo. I wanted to be a nucklehead. My boyfriend is trying his best to keep me in check.

So we saw Chris and we saw Joel. I feel bad becasue I think Chris was better. He is a nerd and he speaks my language. While Joel was funny, it was mostly an expensive episode of The Soup without visuals. Still worth it, but it's easier to calm down my need to get tickets to everything. But I still have to see the shows that I aleady have tickets for. Next stop, David Sedaris. Hell yeah!

Who Watches Nite Owl II's Pants?

I know it's a strange question, but seriously does Patrick Wilson ever keep his pants on? I swear I'm not complaining, but it seems to be an ongoing theme with him. I saw Watchmen recently. Yep, there's his ass. Just to be safe I read the source material and seeing his ass was "essential to the character." Or at least it helped with remaining faithful to the graphic novel.

He's hasn't been in many movies, so I don't have much to go on. Coincidentally, I rented Hard Candy and Little Children in the same trip to Blockbuster. I didn't know he was in both, but it was a strange transition to watch. In Hard Candy, he's an alleged pedophile who gets punished in a graphic way. I don't remember what is shown, but there is a scene where there is an impromptu surgery and some parts of his anatomy are extracted. I know his pants had to be off for what was implied. Please don't make me watch again to verify.

Now in Little Children, it's a step up. There is a pedophile played by someone else(Jackie Earle Haley/Watchmen's Rorschach for those of you keeping score) and Wilson's character has an affair with Kate Winslet. Yep, sex scenes galore. That's two. Or three I guess.

I looked him up on imdb and found it was him that was in the Gap commercial with Claire Danes. There was dancing, music from Annie Get Your Gun, and, wait for it, the removal of his pants. Interestingly enough, he is in the movie in Evening also with Claire Danes. I'd put good money on his pants being missing sometime in the movie considering I know from the story there is a love scene between the two characters. I'll get back to you when I know the results.

To cap it off, I looked at his theater credits. Yeah, The Full Monty. There's a clip on YouTube of him performing the famous scene for the 2001 Tony Awards. I tried to watch it twice and chickened out both times. To be fair, one of the times I was at work. Then again, it's an awards show. What can they possibly show?

Finally I found that he was in Angels in America. He plays an sexually confued Mormon. I am so there. I don't know if he takes his pants off, but I'm willing to invest mini-series time to find out. (It won some Emmys or something right?)

It's abundanlty clear that since I'm dedicating a full post to him, he will be added to my list. You are correct sir. But if this trend begins to reverse and more famous he gets, the more modest he becomes. I might have some issues. Though I don't think I've seen full frontal yet. At least he's still a step ahead (or behind, depending on how you look at it) of Jason Segel.

Judge Not...

..Lest yet be judged for the not one, but two New Kids on the Block Joe dolls I used to have. I had one from my brother and one from my best friend. Lord knows where they ended up, but I guess I should be glad the evidence of my giggling girl days are long gone. Or I should be pissed that I had one still in the box and who knows what that would fetch on eBay. (Apparently ten bucks if I'm lucky.)

Why this confession? I found myself spitting on the anticipated release of Twilight on DVD while gagging over the thought of the Jonas Brothers. Then I freaked out because it's been about ten year since my similar reaction to the Backstreet Boys. (Although secretively, I did want it that way....) I pretend that I don't understand the legions of girls that go nuts for these guys, but then I had to remember that I was once like them.

The first concert I ever attended was a New Kids concert. I remember after church my parents asked my brothers to go ahead into the house, they had to talk to me and my sister. Thinking we were in trouble, I was even more excited to find out they bought us tickets. Looking back, my mom and dad were AMAZING parents to suffer that for their daughters. (I now fear what I may have to be exposed to fifteen years down the road. Maybe I should play my eggs some Yo-Yo Ma and start them in a dignified direction. )

As for Twilight, (aka, Bram Stoker's Romeo and Juliet) again I shouldn't judge. I read Sweet Valley High as a young girl. You know, pretty people with problems. It helped prepare me for enjoying the original 90210. Rich pretty people with problems adds an extra element.

We all have these skeletons in our closet. But I'm choosing to no longer hide behind my hypocrisy and admit on my anonymous blog that I once enjoyed girly tempations. I guess the Bible's right. Be true to thine own self, and to thine owns self be true. (You know, the seventh commandment.)

R.I.P. Adam Carolla Show

Dear Online Diary,

....Delete the tears....

2009 was the year that I was going to take some time off and finally go to one of the live Adam Carolla shows. Be it Los Angeles or Las Vegas, I was going to buy that man a beer and shake his hand. Of course if there were any drinking games, I would have run like a chicken.

And I finally was mustering up enough courage to call in and do one of the How Say You segments (assuming they'd let me on the air.) After hearing Teresa Strasser do her review of Debbie Does Dallas, I get into a conversation about porn with my man and he shows me this, well, it amounts to approaching a woman on the street and spending half an hour convincing her to have sex with a stranger in a van. I was wondering how much men would watch as the convincing part was quite long. Although it was too short with anyone with any amount of self-esteem. Finally we get to the sex in the van part.

I am not kidding when I say that what popped into my head was "Wait, they aren't wearing seat belts. Where are the police? Doesn't this violate Click it or Ticket?" Yes, there were two naked people having sex on the screen but I say this to my boyfriend. And then I break into my Carolla Burbank cop impression. "Okay, what I'm gonna need for you for you to do for me okay right now is go ahead and put your pants on and show me your license and registration okay right now. Sir, okay right now, please remove your penis from her vagina and step away from the van okay right now, okay right now."

Yep. I wanted to tell that story on the air. Of course now the phone lines will be flooded as tomorrow is the last day of The Adam Carolla Show. I'm sad. Didn't cry. But I'm sad. I have no doubt though, with this talk of a podcast,that Carolla will thrive in the media. Just not in the form that I've come to know and love these last two years of listening. I will burn calories to find him where ever he will entertain. I will miss my mornings filled with Ace Man, T, and Bald Bryan. But I wish them all the best in this rocky economy.

P.S. G.S. Go Sox’s!

Celebrity Sighting #11

I don't believe in the concept of Valentine's Day. But I do like presents. But in an attempt to not be that girl, this year for Valentine's Day, my man and I went to go see Christopher Titus together the Saturday before. Considering it's on a Saturday this year, I like avoiding the lovey-doveys. We both are occupied that day anyways.

So Tommy T's was packed. I forgot they pack you in like sardines in there. I lucked out because there were only two of the four types of crappy audience members. Across was the sour-puss that left me wondering why would you drop the forty bucks to have a bad time? (She was clearly a pain as she sent the food back. It's a comedy club, with an item minimum. Why are your expectations so high?) Behind us were the people that clearly ignored the “shut your mouth and let others enjoy the show” announcement. And they were loud. I came to see Titus, not hear your beer fueled blah, blah, blah. I count my blessings that the loud mouth that likes to be part of the act was nowhere to be found. And to top it off no cell phone was heard. Then again, the laughs did not stop so even if one did, there was no way I would have heard it.

Also note to self: next to me you go to a show with an angled view of the stage, sit in front of your 6'3'' boyfriend. As a bonus though, the guy behind me was a laugher like me. That is infectious for me and I enjoy myself when those around me are having the same good time, even if I don't know them.

Every bit was awesome, even the moderately offensive parts didn't go beyond my sensitive-o-meter. In the middle of the show he mentioned that he had shirts he was selling after the show and would be signing them. When the show was over, I bolted to the back because I was not going to miss out on that. I felt bad because I had abandoned my boyfriend. Titus wasn't there with the shirts, but I was going to get my damn autograph. He came downstairs and I grabbed my camera. Unfortunately, it was stuck to my little purse filled with my feminine hygiene products. But I wasn't going to miss the chance. I zipped it closed, handed it to a random guy and just pretended it was the camera bag.

I feel bad that it looks like my boyfriend wasn't meant to be in the shot, but he just tried to get into the back. I was in a hurry and didn't want to be the jerk monopolizing the celebrity's time, especially when he had a second show starting in an hour. I bet if I crop him out, it'd look cool. (Damn I'm mean. He bought me the shirt because he loves me and I'm cropping him out of my “me and celebrities” album.) As we were leaving Titus said to another fan the crowd was great. The previous night's crowd wasn't so responsive and we made up for it. Yeah we did!

On the way home, we rehashed some of the bits. That's one of my favorite parts of a great night. Laughing and having a great time with people you love.

The Titus special Love is Evol is on Comedy Central this Saturday and I suggest EVERYONE see it. This man is hilarious, the material is fantastic and you should avoid the Valentine's Day crap out there and sit with your loved one and enjoy it together. Just turn your sensitive-o-meter down a bit before it starts.

Hail to the Chief, Faithfully

Or was it supposed to be "faithfully hail to the chief"? It doesn't really matter because we have a new president either way. I feel compelled to point out that when Obama recited the oath and he jumped in before he should have, I thought that it should be done only a few words at a time. And I had this flash to the episode of Cheers where Frasier has a dream that Woody gets elected president. I know I'm not the only one to think this because I stole the YouTube link from someone else who had the same observation. But still, take a look.