Is anyone else completely turned off by the thought of this movie? My apologies to any and all Kerouac fans, but fyi, that book is not mind blowing. I have never understood the obsession over it. For those of you who haven’t read it and feel like you may have missed out on something because this book has been given so much praise of cultural importance, you haven’t. It’s all a tedious rambling of self-counsciousness. I read the book twice. I thought maybe I was just missing something the first go around and gave it another shot. But I still thought it sucked. It’s not even well written. And so now we’re going to have a movie. With sour puss I hate everything Kristen Stewart. This girl really irritates me and the combination of her and this movie is too much. Not to mention it co-stars old snaggle tooth Kirsten Dunst. “I’m a vampire too! Kirsten and Kristen like totally almost rhyme! Besties!” Hopefully Kirsten won’t drag Kristen down to rehab with her. That means she might actually have to look like she’s having fun before she gets there.
I have to remind myself that Kristen is still a kid and I think I was probably a total brat at 19 too. But every time someone takes her picture she acts like she’s five seconds from being gang raped. And I’m not just saying that.
She explains the process of leaving somewhere and being bombarded by paparazzi to being this. “What you don’t see are the cameras shoved in my face and the bizarre intrusive questions being asked, or the people falling over themselves, screaming and taunting to get a reaction. All you see is an actor or a celebrity lit up but a flash. It’s so… The photos are so… I feel like I’m looking at someone being raped. A lot of the time I can’t handle it. It’s f**ked. I never expected that this would be my life.”
I’ve never really gone out with someone who I’ve found attractive… initially. Oh, no? Didn’t find Eddie attractive at first? This chick is bonkers. Hopefully she’ll lighten up with age. Maybe she’ll smile once in awhile. But my fear is she starts quoting Kerouac all the time. “Great things are not accomplished by those who yield to trends and fads and popular opinion.” Can’t you hear it?
So Ava will have her very first sleepover at her Grandparents this weekend and we have no idea what to do with ourselves. It’s been so long that I actually feel a little bit lost. Not to mention nervous. I know she’ll be fine with her grandparents, but she still won’t be in her own bed! We’ve got a bet going on whether I cry or not when she’s gone. But seriously, this is the first time in almost nine months that we will have a full 24 hours to ourselves. The possibilities are endless! The only thing I know for sure is that a nap will be involved. And an actual meal at a restaurant. If anyone has any other suggestions, I will gladly take them.
I just heard someone explaining that Elvis has become a very popular boys name. “You know, because Elvis Costello is so big on the scene.”
I don’t think this person is aware that Elvis Costello is actually 56 years old. Which leads me to believe that he doesn’t really know much about him at all. I was interested in a weird way of what this kid’s definition of “scene” is, but I thought I better leave it alone before I had to school him on Elvis Costello, one of the greatest musicians of all time. Not to mention the fact that Elvis is not actually a popular boys name.
It has just come to my attention that Ed Hardy is now making condoms.
Who came up with this idea? Was it Ed Hardy himself? Perhaps someone caught on to the fact that the clothes they manufacture are God awful and they thought they should go in a different direction. Why this was the direction they chose is beyond me. ‘Well, the ladies love us, let’s start a sex line! Brilliant.’ There is also lubricant apparently. “Passionate flavors in ten assorted packets.” Girls, what would you do if you found yourself with someone wearing one of these ‘Monsieur Bond’ condoms? Unless you are a cast mate of Jersey Shore, I’m pretty sure this is a huge turn off.
Actually, now that I think about it, I’ve seen the people who wear Ed Hardy clothing and I can picture seeing every single one of those people buying these. Christian Audigier, you are a genius.
The good news here is that these people are keeping themselves from reproducing. Here’s looking at you Jon.
Thank you Dover Publishing for creating these awesome temporary tattoos. I love them so much. I only wish they had been around when I was 18. Then maybe I wouldn’t have this sweet purple dragon on my back. Hopefully these will still be around when my kid starts bugging me for a tattoo. Read more about them on the Nylon website:
25 days until the premiere of True Blood.
42 days until the Eclipse release.
58 days until my first vacation in ages.
111 days until the Lady Gaga concert. Aka what is sure to be the best night of my life.
184 days until the Harry Potter and the Deathly Hallows release.
Wow. This is pretty much the nerdiest countdown ever. Here, maybe this will help:
Well, this guy has my vote.
There came a point in my life when I realized that my parents wanted boys. It was probably when my mom said “well we wanted boys.” I was playing poker by five years old and darts shortly thereafter. My dad wanted someone to play with. My dad also has a thing for scary movies, sharks, snakes and nature shows. Pretty standard guy things. But not little girl things. When I was five he decided we would bond watching Poltergeist together. I think he thought that exposing me to scary things early would be helpful. I really have no idea. There’s that scene when the little boy is trying to fall asleep and across from his bed is his creepy clown doll sitting in a chair staring at him. First of all, no parent in their right mind would buy a kid a toy that creepy looking. So the kid rolls over for a moment and then a minute later feels the urge to roll back and look at the clown again. Surprise! The clown is gone! The creepy ass clown can move! So he looks around and doesn’t see it anywhere and for some reason he decides he better look under his bed. Makes sense, right? Another surprise!! The creepy clown is there and is now trying to murder you. Long story short, my life long fear of clowns had begun.
Today I heard about Dominic Deville. I find him both hilarious and terrifying. For $666 (cheesy, I know) he will stalk your victim of choice, sending chilling texts, making prank phone calls and setting traps in letterboxes for an entire week. He leaves notes warning the victim that they are being watched, telling them they will be attacked. He gets increasing noticeable throughout the week making them feel more and more like they are being pursued. The clown’s goal if you will, is to smash a cake into the face of his victim, when they least expect it, sometime during the course of seven days. If the victim avoids the ‘hit’, they are given the cake as a birthday present. A cake. After a week of terror!
Apparently this is considered a birthday treat and he is regularly hired by parents, because, as said by Stephen Vaughan of Clowns International, “Bringing a little bit of life and laughter into kids’ lives is what we are all about.”
How is this funny? If my parents did this to me I would never forgive them. Even now. If I looked outside and saw this guy I would scream bloody effing murder and call the police. Terrifying. I mean, just look at him.
So there’s this guy. I think it’s better if he remain nameless. He tried to tell my co-workers that the Chesapeake Bay Bridge is “literally” falling down. He says that the Indians didn’t do a good job building it. He was dead serious.
So, the Native Americans had access to steel apparently. And were building bridges in 1949. Genius.
You learn something new everyday.
Music has always been a big part of my life. As a child I was exposed to all genres, as my parents were pretty well-rounded. That being said, to every few weeks of listening to The Beatles or The Ramones or The Temptations, there was a day of listening to Barbara Streisand even though I threatened to jump out of a window. There’s still a song that I hear so vividly in my mind, although I have no idea what it’s called and don’t want to ask for fear that I’ll have to hear it again. My mom listened to what she wanted no matter what. But she made up for those moments by packing six kids in the minivan and allowing us to headbang to Queen’s “Bohemian Rhapsody” in its entirety. I don’t know how she drove with all that hair swooshing around in the back. But I hope to find out one day.
And if you wanted to hear something really hilarious you could just listen to my dad talk over the entire length of American Pie. His hatred for that song was astounding. But instead of turning it off we just let him talk over the whole thing. Then as we got older dad would pick us up in that ever so embarrassing bright red pick up truck and he would be blasting the most ridiculous music. Although some of it doesn’t seem so ridiculous now. I’m thankful my dad was cool enough to listen to Van Halen. Heavy D and the Boyz, not so much. People still talk about it. When 1992 came along so did Dad’s Right Said Fred “I’m Too Sexy” and Color Me Badd’s “I Wanna Sex You Up” cassette singles. I’m not sure what that phase was all about. If that was his version of the mid-life crisis I’ll take it. But I won’t pretend that I didn’t love Color Me Badd for a minute in high school. High School….sigh. I remember the girl who left Geometry hysterical because Eazy E just died. I still laugh about it, horrible as that sounds. But I just could not believe that I was in a class with someone who loved Eazy E that much.
This makes me miss the 90s. I miss MTV. There were actual music videos. I miss Nirvana and the love of my life Layne Staley and Liam Gallagher, that saucy wanker. I miss Cortney Love throwing compacts at Madonna. Now we’ve got d-bags like Kayne West throwing temper tantrums on stage and stealing mics from teeny boppers. No thank you. At least I’ve still got Damon Albarn. I remember sitting on the beach with my best friend and hearing “Girls and Boys’ from someone’s boom box and we just looked at each other knowingly. What we actually knew is still a mystery. But we loved that song. And when I told my cousin about it later she played the “Parklife” album for me. I was 14. I was also hooked. That started my life long love affair with Damon Albarn and anything he touches. What can I say? True Love lasts a lifetime.
Then the shows. Shows, shows, shows. Two a week. Sometimes more. I wore specific “dancing shoes” so I could dance without fear of falling. Although what I was actually doing wouldn’t actually be considered dancing. I made it a point to explore music as much as I could. I listened to everything. I read every blog. I poured through music magazines and friend’s playlists. But where am I now? It hasn’t been very long, but it already feels like it was so long ago. So often you hear kids complain about their parent’s music growing up. “Old people music.” Can someone tell me what the age is when you start to “change?” I don’t listen to Barbara Stresiand, or even the modern-day equivalent. I’m not sure who that would even be, but there are definitely some guilty pleasures that I never would have allowed a few years ago. Most of them I’m still too embarrassed to say out loud. The girl who went to two shows a week, worked at a music club and literally traveled across the country for music seems to be disappearing. Which is fine. I’m not complaining. No one had more fun than me. And I still have fun, it’s just different. But I don’t have the energy or the time now to keep up with that old lifestyle even if I wanted to. I am no longer in a position to spend my last $5 on a PBR. I am however in a position to buy something other than a PBR if I want a beer though, so that’s definitely an improvement. No more afternoons scrolling through records at thrift shops and my ipod is now filled with songs to lull my seven month old to sleep. I guess this is how it starts. I swear I’m still cool. The odds of anyone walking in and finding me dancing on a table and singing at the top of my lungs to Guns N’ Roses in the living room are pretty slim now. And so the world is a better place.
Now I’m counting down the days for the Lady Gaga concert. And watching videos like this:
I confess, I love him. I bet my mom does too.