tired hot thirsty ugly cramped little houses that list linoleum with holes in it I’m relatively sure I could manage FSBO grouchy unrealistic expecations no breakfast before 3 hour presentation spontaneous bathroom breaks air conditioning booming
I have reached that point in the summer when abandoning sensible savings plans in favor of a convertible seems essential.
My Big Fat Greek Wedding is a splendid excellent wonderful example of a movie where the writer, director, and star are all the same person and the movie is hilarious and it rocks. And Garden State was not like that at all. It may have succeeded as a work of art and some of the visual irony was really excellent. But it just didn’t click together and soar at any point, at least not on the first watching and it was just too painful to watch it a second time.
Natalie Portman was the glue that failed to hold this movie together in the manner of glue holding on space shuttle tiles failing and the whole business just blowing spectacularly up. She was unconvincing as a happy-go-lucky ditz and completely failed to portray the vivacious, effervescent character with occasionally glimpsed depths that was obviously needed as a foil for Zack Branff (is that how you spell it?)’s creepy staring-lithium-freak-with-occasionally-glimpsed-depths lead.
Part of her problem is those eyebrows. They are too high-class and they make her look too serious. And way too rich for this role. Between her eyebrows and Zack’s giant scary capped teeth, I didn’t even know where to look on the screen most of the time.
Hohan would have been a much better choice and then we could have also had some song and dance numbers which are welcome in any movie.
Dear Fran,
Almost everytime I’m hanging out with my new girlfriend we hear at least one rendition of “Money” by the band Pink Floyd (on the radio, off a randomly shuffled iPod, covered by a live band)… Do you know what it means? Is there any deeper meaning to the song or the words in regards to our budding relationship?
Thanks!
– M
Dear M,
It sounds like you’ve landed yourself a gold digger. Quit your job and raise goats.
Sincerely,
Fran
PS Don’t forget the prenup.
Sample conversation:
Dad: I’m so glad you’re starting your Master’s.
Kevin: Well, it’s not the most practical subject.
Dad: So what?
Damn straight.
1. that she went running moments after eating apple french toast. I don\’t think this is even physically possible.
2. that the next day she went running BEFORE breakfast. How can you go running one day after apple french toast and the next before breakfast?
3. that she has a \’titanium iBook.\’ There is no titanium iBook! It\’s a powerbook, woman!!!!! Get it right.
4. that she considers a muffin to be a \’piggy\’ breakfast food. OK we all know they contain like 1 million calories and fat grams but still… I think of muffin as restrained breakfast and Denny\’s Grand Slam as piggy breakfast, muffin as the Jenny Craig of breakfast foods whereas a BK Croissanwich breakfast combo is the Roseanne Barr of breakfast foods…
-Christopher Brookmyre
I think this book does an astonishing job of encapsulating its theme in its structure. It seems at first as though the first person narration, which is a laugh-out-loud criticism of modern-day suburban living, is the satire here. But then it turns out that the book is really a satire about the very same nihilistic attitude underlying the criticism of the suburban lifestyle itself.
That’s pretty unexpected. Well done.
I got this at a used bookstore and the prices on the back are in British pounds and Canadian dollars, so I guess it’s not widely available in this country.
meow,
we are two good cats but we are sad and confused because our person never stays home long enough to play with us anymore. we especially miss playing with the string on a wand. it’s no fun when it just lays there like a danish whore.
we’ve tried everything to get her attention: destroying the blinds piece by piece, shredding full trash bags, knocking things off tables and shelves, and peeing in her luggage. nothing works.
please help us…we are willing to share our greenie treats if you could talk some sense into the crazy lady.
purrs,
zoe & charlie
Dear zoe & charlie,
First of all, get over yourselves. You are only cats and I don’t normally even write back to cats except I’m sick and there’s only So Many Times you can watch Mean Girls in a given day and besides it’s high time your owner got a life and got laid. It’s also high time she got Oral Fixation Volume 2 and some BK and stopped by to watch Love Actually because Some People who live with me insist it’s a Christmas movie which doesn’t make any kind of sense but still they won’t watch it or even be quiet while I watch it and They are in the house. Also I’d like to see Freaky Friday because that was a good movie.
Sincerely,
Fran
1. Burger King chicken sandwiches. I like the fried one in the long bun. With no mayo. With fries. And ketchup. Yesssss. Yesssss.
One time on a plane I heard a guy answer his cell phone- I guess we were on the runway because you aren’t supposed to talk on your cell phone on a plane in flight- anyway his phone rang and he picked up saying “Hello my precioussssss,” and that’s more or less the way I feel about the BK Chicken sandwich combo meal. And that’s what I would say if someone were to stop by with one (no mayo) right now.
It is important to note that the BK combo meal numbering scheme varies according to country. So you cannot simply learn that in Italian Combo Meal Six is Combo Meal Sei and be safe from starvation throughout your travels. There are several other important considerations here, namely if you are sick in Italy the state health system will fund your hospital stay at no cost to you, so you may as well just go to the hospital rather than the BK, and second that being sick is the only reason to eat BK in Italy unless you are some kind of American-from-hell philistine sociopath.
You may also note that while it is possible to get milk with your combo meal in the US, in Canada, milk is not as heavily subsidized and costs almost three times as much as a BK soda. If the workers make the substitution, they will do so grudgingly.
It is also important to note that many transatlantic flights do not offer chocolate milk as a beverage. On these flights, wine is a good substitute as it is often free. Although the tickets on… say Lufthansa or Iberia are usually about 17 times as expensive as for example United, the wine is typically better and I think it all comes out in the wash.
2. Pizza. Especially Stuffed Crust pizza. I like it with either mushrooms and pepperoni or with mushrooms and bacon. I also like banana peppers on pizza, and also on subway subs. But I do not like to eat subway subs when I am sick, although there is a Blimpie in the gas station just up the street- it makes me feel sort of like I live in the Big City, that I can walk to a Blimpie from my house. But I have never really had a passion for Blimpie subs and I think in my current state I would be hit by a car trying to cross the highway on foot anyway.
3. Martinis. There are those who will say that alcohol does not help. But a dirty Tanqueray martini always makes me feel more favorably disposed towards the world.
4. Kalbi. MMMM. MMMM. MMMM. Korean spareribs. I first had these in Madrid at a place that had us grill them ourselves at the table. Hardly a day goes by that I don’t wish I had some Kalbi. Speaking of Madrid I think I’ll go put on some Shakira. OK that’s taken care of. Kalbi is one of the few words I can actually read in Korean. There’s a Korean restaurant in a little town a couple of miles from here. It says Kalbi on the sign. I went hiking there once. I wish I remember where that was.
First, let it be known that I feel like crap. When I touch things, my skin hurts. Not the way your skin hurts when you have a sunburn but the way it hurts when your skin is about to fall off because you are so sick.
The lungs: congested. The head: congested and painful. The overall state: systemic collapse. When I listen to Shakira, it feels like someone is pounding needles into my taut, swollen eardrums.
Actually the head has reached a point where I am no longer sure if it is caffeine withdrawal or the illness which is causing the pain. So I’m making coffee.
But you didn’t come here to read about how I’m sick and about to be sick and wired.
You came here to learn about:
I have one of these things because I was stupid and lazy and rushed. I was also harrassed. And I hate it, hate it, hate it, hate it. It makes my life a living hell.
More on that later.
-quote from Apathy and Other Small Victories by Paul Neilan
I picked up this book at 6 AM in Dulles Airport. Later I paid for it and took it from the store. It was one of those bookstores where everything’s hardcover or a bestseller by a whored out ex-blogger in one of those softcover editions that still costs like $20. I think it must be the only way to apply airport price gouging pathologies to books, since books have a set price. This one is a hardcover.
It’s small and blue and I chose it by its cover which has one of those stick people from public restroom signs on it but the stick person is holding a gun to his head. I looked from it to The Devil Wears Prada which I am pretty sure had an ink drawing of a slender lady in high heels on it, and which I would actually like to read, and then I got this one. The bookstore worker was obviously relieved that I was leaving. She evidently thought I was deranged because I’d been wandering around the bookstore, which was approximately the size of three parking spaces, for ages and then I went and sat down for a while and while I was sorting through my wallet during my layover I found a gift card for the bookstore so I went back and looked for further ages. She was really patient with me, and airport workers are never patient unless they think You Have Problems.
You aren’t supposed to choose a book by its cover but I find that I often do. So. I have now read it. And it was a good choice.
It was really funny and I liked it a lot. Drifter Everyman with Teeth Problems. I laughed out loud multiple times and that was while reading it in the midst of jet lag combined with some kind of respiratory infection that makes my lungs feel like they are drowning in snot, which I noticed is green (or maybe puce) while hacking it up into an empty yogurt container at work. Narrator’s voice: stream of consciousness pottymouth. I love it.
K. It’s Canadian face cream.
J: Dermatologica. Does this not sound like a shakira song title?
And the lyrics would go:
me das
un tremendo asco
jamas
el sol que brilla
me desganas, me repugnas
jamas
Sevilla
ni tu cara- dermatologica
You can imagine my concern when my cargo pants, a key component of my professional wardrobe, got torn. How, you ask, did these pants get torn? That, my friends, is a story for another day.
This story is about how I repaired them and thereby saved THIS day.
Before:
These pants were tore up from the floor up. I looked at them in despair where they lay wadded on the floor of my closet beside several ratty tshirts from the Goodwill that I have not quite worked up the nerve/apathy/seniority to wear to work. I thought to myself- I am a fixer. I am a problem solver. I am a saver-of-the-day. And I am going to save these pants too.
Now back in college a dyke friend of mine made much of the fact that she came to college with a toolbox and I came to college with a sewing kit. Well at this moment, my nail gun did not come to my rescue, or the rescue of my pants, but my trusty sewing kit (you can get them for under $1 from any reputable grocery store) did.
So basically, I dedicated several hours to the project of sewing up this gaping hole in my pants. In my britches, as we say here in Virginia. Now, my hands shaking with the strain, my fingers bleeding from the effort, I have results.
And here they are:
Good things are worth working for.
I don’t buy the argument that pornography desensitizes us to sex or naked people or destroys our budding love affairs or whatever. I think it makes us more discriminating. What makes more sense- going home with some heinous bug eyed chick and/ or old guy with back hair from a bar, wearing our beer goggles, or staying home peacefully looking at porn?
1. The Water Hammer- this awful banging in the pipes when we flush the toilet. Intermittent. Impossible to diagnose. BANG BANG BANG. AAARGH.
2. Getting paint caked in my hair.
3. Negative people who write posts about things they hate.
4. The Water Hammer when you are asleep and it’s like 2 AM and the little lady gets up to use the bathroom
5. What if the Water Hammer leads to the pipes exploding and then in addition to the general state of ramshackle despair of the house, there will be exploded pipes?
6. Sticking your brushes in oil for 3 weeks instead of washing them so then when you finally do wash them, they are all stained and your art teacher will certainly notice and know you’re an artistic lightweight and bad person but buying new brushes is futile as they will just go the same way so it’s best she knows the awful truth from the get-go so she can make her peace with it and move on, even though she won’t
7. I don’t actually hate this painting but I think it may be whack
8. Pith Helmet- This is more love-hate because I love the fact that there are no hideous flash ads all over my browser, yet I hate the awful performance hit in Safari, and I hate the way Safari crashes when you use it, and most of all I hate that message that says “5 Million Ads Blocked by Pith Helmet. Do you want to spend $10 to register now?” and then it redirects you to some hateful website where for the 5 millionth time you click “No I don’t want to register,” because who wants to register software that makes your browser slow and crash and costs 10 bucks even though you’re actually addicted to it? 10 bucks is not a price point that makes sense to me for software. 10 bucks is the price point where a tacky pink patent leather hat at the Gap becomes a must-have fashion accessory even though it doesn’t fit my gigantic egghead. 10 bucks is the price point where you know it’s going to be a bad haircut. 10 bucks is… I don’t know, about a gallon of gas. 10 bucks is a tube of generic paint in a color that doesn’t contain any heavy metals. 10 bucks for software is the it-really-should-be-free-or-a-voluntary-donation price.