Hustle and Fries

I must have been doing very well on my diet. Even though it's been around for a while, it is only recently that I noticed the new design on the Burger King fries box and soda cups. There I was at eleven at night (okay, diet is out the window) only a few days ago mesmerized by the "fry pod" design. Then a strange sensation came over me. Why does this make me think of Get Rich or Die Tryin'? I verbalized my concern to my boyfriend and he kindly responded "Uhh....because the fries cost 50 Cent?" Though the response made me chuckle, the issue still pressed.

As it turns out, the answer to that question is twofold. In the late stages of the night, my memory of pop culture deteriorates. I had confused the 2005 movie Get Rich or Die Tryin' that had the story of a guy trying to escape a bad life for himself as a drug dealer and make something of himself as a rapper, featuring Terrance Howard, and Hustle & Flow, the 2005 movie of about Terrance Howard trying to escape a bad life as a pimp and make something of himself as an emcee.

I understand if those who read this are offended by my mixing up the two movies. I, myself get deeply upset at those who mistake Dermot Mulroney and Dylan McDermutt. And don't even talk to me if you can't get straight Nick Nolte and Gary Busey.

The second half of the answer is that the design of the "fry pod" looked like the poster for Hustle & Flow. I pointed this out to my brother and he showed me the signature on the back. The design came from Sean John, P. Diddy's clothing line. I must say that I really have a hard tine associating the music mogul with cheap burgers. But if this happened, perhaps those responsible for the Hustle & Flow posters are also the ones that worked on this Burger King design.


I bet the movie would have tanked if they replaced Terrance Howard with a triple bacon cheeseburger. And why do the fries only get second billing?



My research was extensive. I typed "Hustle and Flow poster and Burger King" into Google and crossed my fingers. Nothing came up that would answer my question. Then it suddenly came to me. I don't care all that much. I made the association. I think that's as far as it goes. I suppose I could end with a "It's hard out there for a Burger pimp" comment, but that's not funny. I'll just let the 50 Cent joke provide sufficient smiles for this round.

While Visions Of Matt Damon Danced In My Head

That's right ladies and gentlemen. Take off your prude caps and listen up. Last night I had the elusive celebrity sex dream.

It started off with me trying to get at Jason Segel. (Since seeing Knocked Up, I've decided he will fill in a place of My List of Five. I haven't yet decided though who he'll replace. After the fall TV season starts, it'll be an easier task. Also, I am currently harboring an awkward crush on Simon Pegg, so we have to work through that before we start editing the list.) It didn't get very far. He was just there and I just wanted to be there with him. In...you know...THAT way. He's hot and actually not very far in age from me. I know I usually like them in their forties, but hey, maybe I'm maturing. (If that makes sense.)

Then for some reason there is a shift in time and it happens. I'm in the same room as Matt Damon. It's strange because I'm aware he's Matt Damon. But there is this thing in the air where I'm in the mind-frame of a teenager with a huge crush on the star quarterback. (Because let's face it, celebrities are just metaphorically the quarterbacks and cheerleaders in the high school of life.) So I have this incredible longing in my chest just to be near him. I loved him. In the way that makes people afraid because we don't want to get hurt by loving someone who does not love us back. (Or at least I don't.) I started to miss that feeling in real life. Not the fear. That is terrifying to live with. The rush you get when you put your heart out there and as it turns out he loves you just as much. That's what happened. He loved me. One of the most important parts of the dream I remember is the first time he reaches his hand out to me. He's afraid too. And I take it. Suddenly there is nothing but happiness. And then comes the sex.

Just so we're clear, it was the visions that were dancing in my head, not Matt Damon.

All right, I'm not going to lie or embellish. There was implied sex. I know because my clothes were missing at one point. This was actually kind of funny. We have to sneak around because our relationship can't get out to the public. It's like we're in a dorm area or something. Some guy we know comes around to his door and I sneak into his friend's spot and pretend that I'm dating him instead. Yeah, it's Ben Affleck.

Even weirder is there's this one part where we're together and people are coming to meet him. So he goes to head them off so I can make it seem as though we weren't together. I'm left with no car so I just start to walk to wherever it is. Finally this car pulls around with the group. For some reason I see my "brother" (I use quotes because in the dream he's played by Ralph Macchio. I knew that cameo in Entourage would get him back in the spotlight.) in the car and they are all worried. I've been missing and they were out trying to find me. I get into the car and Matt is crying. I guess he was truly scared because he didn't know where I was. Strange, but in the beginnings of a relationship, it's incredibly sweet.

Sadly, I was woken prematurely before the story could progress beyond hiding in Ben Affleck's dorm room. (He did have a girl in there with him, so it made things a little harder to keep up the farce. But that's what friends are for.) This is the part that makes me a little sick though. Yeah, in he celebrity world, privacy is a sacred thing. We didn't want news of our love to get out. But towards the end of my dream I blatantly remember thinking "I hope this doesn't get out to his wife." Stupid reality meshed with my dream. So now I'm a home wrecker. Maybe it was a good time to get out of the dream before my home wrecking ways did some serious damage. Or at least damage with consequences that I had to see. (I want to get one thing straight. I don't believe anything can excuse or justify cheating or affairs. In real life, if I had a chance with Matt Damon, I would never do anything to hurt his family or my own. But in the crazy dream world where rules and being a good person goes out the window, I'd be selfish for the love I had. For all I know, in dream world, she was a whore first. And my boyfriend didn't exist. So stop judging my dream whorishness.)

Now considering I've read the Forbes article, he's on the cover of Entertainment Weekly, and just for a giggle I shout out MATT DAMON a la Team America, it should be no surprise that he appeared in on of my dreams. I like him, I think he ranks high on the awesome meter, but I don't like him that way. Well, that is I didn't until waking up flushed and cursing my job keeping me from continuing my existence as Matt Damon's girl. It's scary because for the rest of the day I felt as if I was blushing. As if everyone at work knew what I had dreamed. And now I have this lingering obsession/crush that rivals the one my niece has on Daniel Radcliffe (Or Harry Potter. It's really hard to tell who she has a thing for.) I hate feeling so childish. But I know that if I give this a couple of days, it'll wear off. I damn the internet that allows me to look up his life story so easily. Dear God, please send me something new to obsess about. Maybe if I watch Stuck on You, it'll die down. Lord knows Greg Kinnear can ruin just about anything. Even Matt Damon.

Harry Pottter and the Freaking Five Hours at Borders

Warning: This article may contain spoilers if you read too much into everything.

For some reason I think I should be doing these things. That I would be part of history if I stand and wait until the stroke of midnight for the first wave of books released. My boss told me that at my age, I should be waiting for something like concert tickets. He's right. But I don't do concerts. Now when The Simpsons Movie comes out you can be sure I'll be at the midnight screening in costume. (Seriously. If hobbit and wizard geeks get to do, then I can show up in a theater dressed up as Duffman.) I was out to get the book right away for two very specific reasons. One, I do not want to have the ending spoiled for me. Damn internet has damn blabbermouths. Used to be you could shut yourself in and didn't have to listen to those you did not want to. But now some guy in New Jersey can put something on the internet and while I look up what episode of Law & Order is on tonight, I see tonight's mini marathon involves an homage to Jerry Orbach and Harry Potter may they rest in peace. Wait, what? That might sound crazy, but it has a Six Degrees of Kevin Bacon quality to it and on the internet, it can make sense. Especially in New Jersey.

All I have to do now is avoid the spoilers for The Sopranos and I'm set.

Two, for some reason, I must finish this book before my eleven year old niece. Why? I don't know exactly. The sad pathetic answer is that I'm an adult and I should have access to and get to do fun things before she can. I must know how it ends before she does. I saw the fourth movie before her and I HAVE to read the last book before her. Petty, sad, yes. But true.

That's it. For that reason I got to Borders at 9:30PM and thanks to some sort of line system (involving colored bracelets and numbers) I'm still trying to understand, ended up leaving with my book at 2AM. There was supposed to be some sort of party thing with a spelling bee and costume contest or something. I don't know, I was looking forward to the festivities but instead just ended up ducking into one section of the bookstore at a time wherever there was space and gabbed what sounded interesting off the shelves. I felt bad for the mess left for the store staff (Not left by me. I've worked in customer service. People can be bastards, really. I refuse to be that bastard.) It ate up my weekend, but I finished it. I'm not a die hard fan, but I will say that it's good storytelling. That is hard to find. I didn't get the ending spoiled. I think that's the important part. And yes, I did beat my niece to the ending. Whooo, I can read faster than a fifth grader (well, sixth in the fall). Someone sign me up for that show.

Celebrity Sighting #8

This is the great thing about being an adult. It's Sunday and I'm just sitting around with friends talking about whatever. I mention David Spade in Vegas when we are, but we we'll be leaving before the show. I mention he's doing a show in Reno soon. When? Turns out this coming Saturday. Wow, wouldn't it be awesome if we went? Yeah....

Cut to Saturday on the road with my two friends. I wouldn't call it a road trip as it is only roughly three hours and only consisted of one rest stop. But how did this happen? How is it something we dreamed of when we were younger (that is, seeing a comedian that has shaped our mannerisms and sense of humor) is just so easy to achieve? Oh right, old enough to travel without adult supervision and have credit cards. That makes sense. So with the help of a comped room at Harrah's and the kind people at John Ascuaga's Nugget box office, we were on our way to see David Spade.

Now back in the day it was Saturday Night Live and Just Shoot Me David Spade we were familiar with. I had never see his stand-up, but my two companions had seen his Take The Hit special. Unfortunately his act consisted of about 50% of recycled material from that special. Though I wasn't aware, and they were still laughing their asses off, so it was not a tragedy. But I'm getting ahead of myself.

Turns out the opening act was Todd Glass, one of the Last Comic Standing contestants. He was all right. I was on a high from jetting off to Reno on a whim and hanging out with fun gals. I sat back and enjoyed watching the other's enjoyment. And there he was on the stage. David Spade. My model for sarcasm.

He did his thing, we laughed. Good stuff. Here's what I don't get though. The chairs in front of us were empty. Good for us, fewer heads to block the view. But these people finally showed up. I couldn't tell because it was already dark and I didn't see them well but as far as I could tell they were in their late thirties. They were late. I don't get that. But of course I don't, we were jumping up and down excited about this and got there an hour and a half before it started. The about half way through the show, they got up and left. It's not a like a night club. This is a show and we paid seventy-five buck to see this. For me, even if it was a bad show, it'd stay and get the full price of enjoyment out of it. Maybe this was a comped show for them, but to me doing that is disruptive. Jerks.

Then again, I might be able to understand it. I mean he was raunchy. And a little more than offensive. He went after lesbians and terrorists (in the racist kind of way) and touched on porn, date rape and a tarantula that was high. Not the best of material. More like squirm in my seat than laughing my ass off. But like I said, it was in it for the experience, not really for the show.

What made it even funnier was staying after the show and seeing if we could catch him on the way out. The way it was set up, we had no idea where he would come from, but that didn't stop us from snooping around. My friends did at least, not me. They made the standard jokes of who to sleep with to get backstage. Of course it wouldn't come to that. It would have been flashing at the most. But they have the goods to work with so more power to them. I get celebrity proximity excitement too, so I understand.

The night ended with no signing of boobs, but three girls giggling the late into the night when they should have been sleeping. Last time I did something like that, I was afraid of waking up my friend's parents. At least this time we could be as loud as we wanted (short of the guests in the next room calling the front desk to shut us up). I have to say this adult thing rocks. It makes it easier to get more celebrity sightings, that's for sure.

It's a Gift...and a Curse

It's a wonderful time when I no longer have to give a crap about keeping my shows in my schedule. I make it a point not to give into summer shows. Though The Starter Wife and Burn Notice look good, but I will not get sucked in. Now is a time for me to catch up on my back log of TV sets I have on DVD.

It seems like an easy task to just sit on my ass, but at the risk of being ridiculed by my workaholic father, it's hard work watching TV. There more going on than meets the eye.

For starters, this is one full season at a time. This isn't a mini Law & Order marathon on TNT. Five episodes is easy. Twenty two, give or take requires some practice. Yes, there are no commercials so five hours will yield me about seven episodes, but no commercials means no natural break to run for the bathroom or grab a bite to eat. If I don't move around or eat, what was once an enjoyable DVD bender is now a situation that will cause me to resent a new set to be watched.

Last Christmas, I had a plethora of gift cards that resulted in one day's purchase of four seasons of South Park and three seasons of Will & Grace. I was smart this time to alternate seasons so I wouldn't get burned out on the same characters. Here was the interesting thing. I started to emulate characters a little bit. I wasn't surprised because when I watched the first season of The Closer, I found I had adapted Deputy Chief Brenda Leigh Johnson's charming "thaaaaaaaank yew." It was so subtle, but there I was saying it to the people at work. I guess it wasn't a bad thing, but the trouble came when I drenched myself with these two other shows. Let's face it. Cartman is freaking funny. Karen Walker is hilarious. But it is always at the expense of others. I had found that I was in extra mean mode. It was just instinct to rattle of insults left and right. Without even noticing I was throwing a Cartman-esqe tantrum and saying "buuuut Maaaaaaaa!" to my own mother. Even the classic "My God, I hate you" was flying out of my mouth. How quickly I have been transformed. It was a little scary.

Those who have watched at least ten episodes of the same show in a row will feel me on this one. Jokes become repetitive. Ideas get recycled. The next line becomes predictable. I didn't like that I could watch an episode of Will & Grace that I had never seen before and could finish the punchline. Is that a result of thinking like a writer? Or are the jokes and insults just too easy? In either case, it is not enjoyable watching. Switch to procedurals. I love my dramas. I live for The Closer and House. But these two have an annoying thing in common. Too many times you'll have the lead character staring off into space about eight minutes before the episode is over. At this time some side character is yammering about something half related to the current mystery to be solved. But for some reason, a random word is the key to the whole thing. Yes, trash compactor.. for convenience.....like a convenience store.....where you ask for directions if you get lost....which he wouldn't have done if he had killed her....it was the mother! For fans of House it goes more like this: laundry.....he might have needed quarters from the bank.....piggy bank....pig is not kosher.....so he had the chicken....which has us thinking salmonella...... but it's disguising the other symptoms of lupus...but it's never lupus...so it must be meningitis. Sadly, I'm not far off. Get season two of House and you'll see it.

Here's the toughest part of all. It's four in the morning and you have only one disk left. Sure you've spent hours watching and you're exhausted, but a few more episode and then you're done. Where does it stop being entertainment and start being a chore? I don't go to the movies as much anymore because I don't like the two hour commitment, but I give into the "just one more disk."

Maybe I should stop. I should just give up and start reading again. Then again Firefly is calling my name. But I should do season three of Arrested Development as a warm up. Damn you convenient high quality television!

My List of Five (Lesbian Edition)

To be fair to all those involved, I think that an expression of "Hot!"(To be read with an extended "ah" sound i.e. haaaaaaaaahhhhhhhht!. If I had extended the "o's" it would just look like hoot. I'm not an owl. Hoot just misses the point entirely.) should not be limited to one gender. Don't get me wrong. Me likey the men. But I'm a girl, so I can harp about other women's hotness and not appear to likey the women. Though men could use all said in their own personal movies in their head, but that's just a unfortunate side effect of my celebration of the female form.

Every year Maxim puts out its 100 hottest women. It's now a tradition to sit with my boyfriend and dispute the magazine's claims. While I cannot deny the beauty(Wait, sometimes I can. Eat a freaking donut once in a while you size double zero freaks!) of these women, I stand firm (hehehe penis joke) on my position (hehehe, sex joke) that hotness is more than pretty faces and boobs (heheheheh, boobs). Though I must say that I whole heartily agree with some of their choices. Ali Larter and Isla Fisher? Good calls. Women with a little more to offer. In fact one of my five is in the hundred. But I'm so tired of Jessica Alba, Jessica Simpson, and Jessica Biel. Oh, and Linsday Lohan. She's not a Jessica but I'm sick of her too.

Yes, yes, I'm sure if I had a penis I would be singing a different tune. And just to be fair, I will eventually put up a list created by one on the male side. But for now, suck it. This is my list.

1) Mariska Hargitay
2) Kate Winslet
3) Kate Walsh
4) Alyson Hannigan
5) Jenna Fischer

The Evolution of a Quote

"It was symbolism. I'm yelling because I'm angry."

I don't expect you to know what I'm talking about here because it's a misquote. The original context takes us to Simpsons episode "Beyond Blunderdome" with Mel Gibson (before the crazy). After Homer and Mel redo Mr. Smith Goes to Washington and after the bloody battle scene the question from one of the viewers "why did Mr. Smith kill everybody*?" comes up. Homer, in his wisdom, responds with"It was symbolism. He was mad." That's good stuff. But it takes two people to quote.

Years ago when times were simpler, when cell phones didn't double as a camera, mp3 player, GPS device, blood pressure monitor and home pregnancy test, I would sit in my senior English class with my male counterpart and quote not just The Simpsons, but various obscure TV shows like The Kids in the Hall. Sadly so many shows and so many friends have come and gone I cannot remember all our special quotes. I have no doubt that if he were still here instead of on the other side of the country, we would have had so much fun with Arrested Development, The Office, and How I Met Your Mother. But this one particular quote stays near and dear to my heart. Why? Because it's a misquote that does not piss me off.

I have to admit that I am a purist. I put a little * up there on "everybody" to point out that I had to look this up to make sure if it was "everybody" or "everyone". I'm also a corrector. Or at least I was in my earlier days. Today, I let stuff go. That is unless I'm in the presence of another corrector. (I happen to spend time with one regularly. He keeps me on my toes. At times I return home wanting to crack open my old Futurama sets to brush up on my Bender and Zoidberg one liners.)

Some quotes have to remain pure to me, though. Example: The Usual Suspects line up scene has to be said word for word "Hand me the keys you fucking cocksucker." And just to be absolute, if you do Benicio Del Toro's part it's "hand me the keys you cocksucker, what the fuck?" But you must make sure you are indecipherable and irritated as you annunciate.

So many quotes have found their way into my everyday that I'm not even sure if what I say are my own thoughts anymore. In fact it has reached the point were if anything remotely witty or funny comes out of my mouth, my boyfriend ask me "what's that from?" What's even sadder that I have to think for a minute before I can illegitimately hit him and say "I came up with that!"

But being a pop culture child, I can bond with people over one-liners and obscure references. It may not seem like much to you, but I like that I can always make my dad laugh by saying "Oh, save me Jebus!" You try and tell me that's not funny.