¡Viva La LaLa!

Amanda, Would You Please Review The 2012 Golden Globe Awards In A Single Facial Expression

2012-01-15T21:23:00.000-08:00

Thank you, and goodnight.

YuleTuesday: What Vietnam Did To Me

2011-12-21T06:41:00.000-08:00

After Thanksgiving I made a promise to myself.

I was going to get all my shopping done early and spend the rest of the month being a productive adult. I would write more, go to more auditions, get my headshots in order, get my bills paid, keep my living conditions tolerable, eat things that weren't chocolate-based, bathe regularly, and do other things that would not make me feel like an underdeveloped woman-child. Productive adult!

Then, I would celebrate my productive adulthood by doing New York Christmassy things, going to all the skating ponds, mounting an all-inclusive, multi-cultural holiday pageant in a warehouse in Brooklyn, then toasting the season with mugs of wassail. Because that is what productive adults do. It was going to be a glorious December.

Then the Holiday Season came around and said, "You will do none of those things, because you are my bitch now."

I'm behind on everything, working at erratic hours, stumbling into parties with handmade roasted pepper antipasti, and only just barely functioning on a physical level. I am definitely not feeling like a productive adult. I am neither producing, nor adulting, and I am definitely not feeling the Christmas mood.

But maybe...maybe there's still room in my life for a miracle. Maybe God will send a poor boy with a cancer-stricken mom to show me the true meaning of Christmas. Maybe someone else's suffering can still make me feel good about myself. That would be worth all the productivity and all the adulthood in the world.

(Warning: the following is Not Safe For Work, either visually or aurally. Please enjoy this in the privacy of your own home.)

God bless us, everyone.

YuleTuesday: Making The Holidays Even More Uncomfortable

2011-12-06T21:55:00.000-08:00

Hello. How are you? Never mind where I have been, where have you been? Do you know it's Christmas? Do they know it's Christmas? Do I know it's Christmas? What day is it? How long have I been awake?

So, yes. Video. Here you go:

This song. It's not very cheerful, is it? I've cushioned it with some L.A.-based comedians, but I'm sure you've heard the non-ironic version of this song at least 23 times today on your local lite FM. Have you ever listened to the lyrics? I mean really listened to them?

And there won't be snow in Africa this Christmastime
The greatest gift they'll get this year is life
Where nothing ever grows
No rain nor rivers flow
Do they know it's Christmastime at all?

The answer is no. No, they don't know it's Christmas because they are too busy starving to death. And we don't know they are starving to death because we are too busy being Christmassy bastards.

Anyway, I hope your favorite L.A.-based comedians have made the shame more palatable. Go back to your happy holidays with your high caloric food, your blood diamonds, your sweat-factory toys and your Walmarts. No seriously. Enjoy it all. Enjoy your whole tinsel-laden consumerist orgy. Africa will just be over here, quietly starving to death. Pay them no mind. It's not like they know it's Christmas.

YouTuesday: 8-Bit Theatre

2011-03-22T19:00:00.000-07:00

Video games and contemporary theatre are like chocolate and potato chips: two great things that inexplicably go great together.

In Brooklyn, every summer the Brick Theater hosts Game Play: a video game-themed theatre festival. I am amazed that I, a lover of all things theatre and video games, did not know such a thing existed. It's like somebody threw me a party, but forgot to invite me.

Here is a "deleted scene" from last year's festival: Harold Pinter's Duck Hunt...

Harold Pinter's Duck Hunt from Piper McKenzie on Vimeo.

I cannot wait to see what other cross-cultural mash-ups the creative minds of today will come up with. Lara Croft as interpreted by Henrik Ibsen? Capcom vs. Chekhov? Six Sprites In Search of a Start Button? Why, all these and more are possible! What an age we live in.

That's So Brooklyn

2011-03-21T18:41:00.000-07:00

Hi. It's been awhile, huh?

So, remember a time last year when I decided to boost my marketability with a freshly Blingee'd headshot?

Free Photo Editor

Yeah, that didn't work. Casting directors still ignored me. Should I have added more sparkles? I'll never know.

Luckily, a friend of mine used his elite photoshop skills to create a newer headshot that was bold and radical while still remaining completely natural.

It didn't really do much, either. Though I did get some interesting calls from PETA.

Time passed. My acting career remained in limbo. Over the winter months I did a lot of soul searching. I was not happy with where life had taken me thus far, and I wondered if I had made the right choices. Did I really want to be an actor? Did I really want to be a writer? Or did I just want the trappings of a creative lifestyle while putting in little to no effort?

It turns out that last part was true.

Having readjusted my ambitions, I set to accumulate a new identity. I moved to Brooklyn, filled my purse with American Spirit cigarettes and squeezed my ass into the tightest jeans I could afford.

The metamorphosis is now complete: I have become a hipster.

And now, having embraced my fauxhemian leanings, I present to the world my new new headshot.

Alright, casting directors. I await your calls.

The Year of La: Part 1

2010-12-16T21:07:00.000-08:00

This blog has been rather quiet for the past year. Oh sure, I've talked of all things Lost, sung the praises of Dolph Lundgren and publicly challenged Olivia Munn to a game of Street Fighter (as of press time I remain the default winner). Yet, despite those brief shining moments 2010 for the most part remained a long stretch of catering jobs and wasted opportunities.

How did things come to this?

I started 2010 by firing my muse, then promptly hired a new one. Things got off to a productive start as Juri took to her new duties with enthusiasm...

GET THE FUCK OUT OF BED AND MAKE SOME GODDAMN ART!

Myself: Juri, it's five A.M. I don't have any auditions today, I had kind of a hard shift last night...

You know what's hard? MY FOOT UP YOUR ASS IF YOU DON'T DO SOMETHING CREATIVE RIGHT THE FUCK NOW!

Self: Hey, remember what we talked about yesterday? Less confrontational? Let's try that, 'kay?

Okay. Sorry. How about...I think it would be really good for you if started the day with a few pages of writing, or perhaps some vocalises, or maybe your LAZY ASS COULD STAY IN BED WHILE I [deleted] YOUR [deleted] [deleted] UP WITH A [deleted] UNTIL IT [deleted] [deleted] AND [deleted] FOR THE REST OF YOUR LIFE!

Self: ...how would that even fit there?

CREATE, BITCH!

We were getting along swimmingly.

As for the old muse, I had give her two weeks to pack up her things (or at least take out the recycling because goddamn that girl goes through a lot of bottles) and find new employment. However...

Hey, we're out of that hippy happy moon goddess lady parts tea you get at the store with the juice bar. My uterus monster is roaring, man. It must be slain.

Self: You could buy some for yourself while you are out LOOKING FOR A NEW JOB.

I am looking for a new job. I have totally just updated my resume and I strongly intend on sending it out at some point.

Self: You are an absolute waste of oxygen.

Oh, and you're the very soul of self-motivation?

Self: ...You spilled your mudslide on the rug.

Yeah, I didn't have the stones to kick her out. How could I? If I had fallen on hard times, wouldn't I need some support? I guess my former muse's situation hit a little too close to home. Besides, if I left things up to her own devices she would have probably ended up living in some slum. Or Staten Island.

Staten. Island.

Anyway, I thought at least between having one near-psychotic, aggressively driven muse and one barely-achieving, functioning-alcoholic muse something would get done.

Then, at the beginning of the summer, Juri discovered the internet...

Self: Muse, I could use some help with this monologue...

(eyes fixed on computer screen) Mmmhmm...

Self: I'm not really connecting with this character, Juri. Could you please threaten me with violent inspiration?

(noncommittal hand gesture)

Self: Did you hear me? I said- oh, goddamnit. Are you still watching anime?

It's research. I am stocking my own personal pond with the fishes of creative experiences. I read it in The Artist's Way.

Self: You've been watching Nana for, like, two days now.

I'll take a break once Takumi suffers his inevitable, bloody death and Hachi and Nobu get back together.

Self: I don't think...

I HAVE TO BELIEVE IT HAPPENS!

Thus became my life: two useless muses, several low-paying jobs, a revolving door of subletting roommates, a cat whose playfulness didn't know the meaning of restraint, and little else to call my own.

After nearly four years living in New York I was nowhere near to accomplishing my dreams. At the time, I had never felt so desolate. In my darkest hour, I took solace in religion. One day at church I knelt before the altar of my patron saint, and I prayed...

Self: Our console, who art in Chinatown, awesome be thy name... Dear Saint Street Fighter, I come before you today not to kick righteous ass, but to get a kick in the ass. A life-affirming ass-kick, if you will. Please, Dear Fighter, I have lost my way. I haven't done a play in almost a year, and I haven't gotten another essay published. Day by day, my situation becomes more desperate. My apartment has completely run out of hard liquor and I don't remember the last time Juri bathed. What am I to do? I beseech you for help and salvation. Thank you, Blessed Game. Accept these non-redeemable $.25 tokens as an offering.

Some Guy: Hey, if you're not going to play could you move aside?

Self: Leave me alone with my god.

Some Other Guy (whispers something to Some Guy)

Some Guy: (snickers)

Self: What did you just say?

Some Other Guy: Nothing.

Self: Were you just talking about me?

Some Guy: No, we were just...no. We were...just...

Self: ...did you make a remark about something else I could do kneeling?

Some Guys: (hang heads)

Self: Okay, this? This is the reason why I'm reluctant to identify as a gamer.

Chinatown Fair Arcade may not be the most pious of places, but that night my prayers were answered...

(to be continued...)

YouTuesday Is Thankful

2010-11-23T12:45:00.000-08:00

As the days grow colder and my 20's draw to a close I find myself growing anxious with my chosen life path. Quite simply, an economic recession is not the best time to be an actor in New York City. Somebody posted this article on Facebook the other day and my catering job is starting to drive me crazy. Long story short: my poor father has lately ended up on the receiving end of several distressed phone calls.

This holiday season, I'd like to apologize to my dad and also thank him for his and mom's endless patience and support. Dad, I don't have much to give, but I hope you like this.

I give you the gift of Nicholas Cage:

I hope you watch this and appreciate that your daughter's freak-outs are subtle and understated in comparison.

I love you, Dad. Happy Thanksgiving.

YouTuesday Feels Incredibly Lazy Now

2010-10-26T21:08:00.000-07:00

I bet you feel pretty confident about yourself, but can you do a backflip into a basketball hoop?

No. No you can't.

YouTuesday Part 2: Tube Harder

2010-10-19T20:46:00.000-07:00

Well, might as well post about Jim McMillian before he becomes an old meme.

These are clips from the New York gubernatorial debates the other night. This is real. This is happening in the state I'm currently living in.

Go ahead, California. Have a good, long laugh.

But, is the rent too damn high? What do you think, Carl?

Well said.

YouTuesday...Could Use a Drink

2010-10-19T09:04:00.000-07:00

Thankfully, Boba Fett and a Taun Taun (by way of Vampire Cowboys) are here to teach me how to make the perfect margarita.

Mmm, alcoholly goodness.

Sleeeeeeeep

2010-10-09T23:03:00.000-07:00

Having some trouble sleeping right now. I think the green tea ice cream I had earlier is partially to blame. I don't know why, but I always assume that green tea is naturally decaffeinated. I mean, it's green! That means it's gentle on my mind and on our landfills, right? Not necessarily. That fucking ninja tea is jacked

Alas, I must pay for my sweet transgression in tortured sleeplessness.

I think I just heard my eyes blink. They sounded like camera shutters. Do they only sound like that at night? Do Batman's eyes make those noises? Did you know that my computer thinks "Batman" is a typo? It just made the Red Squiggly Angry Teacher line twice! How does Batman feel about all this, I wonder. It probably makes him want to punch a wall. That's understandable. Oh, dear St. Batman, I hope you find a nice wall to punch tonight, wherever you are. Hopefully New York, but probably Chicago.

Batman, if you are in New York, please find a way to stop these mass transit fare hikes. $104 for a monthly pass? That has GOT to be the work of some criminal organization. Get on it, Bats!

Let's keep talking while my brain is stuck on "shuffle". Somebody needs to save that little Beiber kid. Can you imagine what he must be going through: weekly electrolysis sessions, and whatever it takes to keep him pink and hairless. The poor kid might even be hosting botox parties, Dear God! Save him, Batman!

I feel my head kind of nodding. Does this mean that the chamomile-Ambien-Jameson tea I brewed earlier is working? I hope so. I need to be up early to tweet a crappy book and go to a Japanese festival and do hot yoga and pick up laundry and...you know, productivity just doesn't come naturally to everyone. It's HARD. Some of us have to plan ahead, and my plans for tonight did not include barely-coherent, vaguely-spellchecked insomnia ramble. That was just a cherry on top.

Oh, hey, look! It's my cat, lying at the foot of the bed. Guess what he's doing? FUCKING SLEEPING! Way to rub it in, Tux. You sleep like 18 hours a day. You must be expending a whole load of fucking effort right now. Well, let me tell you, Mr. Tuxedo Pants Brandon Hugh Eleanor LaPergola: your antics right now are in not very amusing

But when you try to eat spinach even though your teeth are too sharp? That makes me giggle.

But enough of this. Sleep! Get your ass in here, now!

Lundgren: The Swedish Knight Returns

2010-08-30T06:30:00.000-07:00

I posited this theory yesterday in the comments of Keidra's post, but it bears repeating and further examination:

Exhibit A: Super Hero

Dolph Lundgren should be a super hero, if he isn't one already.

I have not yet seen The Expendables, but I yearn to see it in a way that I cannot explain. There's something about having an early morning job and working six days this week that makes me want to see people being punched and things blow up.

I was not overly familiar with one of that film's stars, a certain Mr. Lundgren until recently. I did know of him. I was aware that he was Robocop and had been in a Rocky and may or may not have been Russian, but it turns out that there is more to Lundgren than all that. Much, much more.

From his Wikipedia page:

As a teenager [Lundgren] tried judo, Gōjū-ryū and took up Kyokushin karate. Lundgren now holds the rank of 3rd dan black belt in Kyokushin. He won the European championships in 1980 and 1981 as well as a heavyweight tournament in Australia in 1982. He was also captain of the Swedish Kyokushin karate team, and was a formidable challenger at the 1979 World Open Tournament (arranged by the Kyokushin Karate Organization) when he was only a green belt.

He graduated from the Royal Institute of Technology. He has a master's degree in chemical engineering from the University of Sydney (1982). He was awarded a Fulbright Scholarship to the Massachusetts Institute of Technology in 1983, but he quit after two weeks to pursue acting. He speaks Swedish, English, Spanish, some German, some French, some Japanese, and some Italian. Lundgren completed his mandatory military service in Sweden at the Amphibious Ranger School. During his service at the elite marine unit (Kustjägarna), he suffered an injury which had him reassigned and separated from his unit.

Let us consider all of Lundgren's achievements individually:

-3rd degree black belt
-military veteran
-masters degree in chemical engineering
-fluency in at least 3 different languages
-international movie star

Having stated all that, let me once again present my original proposition: Dolph Lundgren, having met all scrutable criteria should become- if he has not already- a super hero.

Someone with that many accomplishments is clearly a human being of unlimited potential and should be utilizing those God-given gifts towards the fight against crime for the benefit of all. If someone had gunned down his parents, he would be the Swedish Batman (Man of Fladdermöss) by now.

Not convinced? Think about this: in 2009 burglars broke into Lundgren's home in Marabella, Spain, taking his wife hostage. However, as soon as the burglars saw pictures of Mr. Lundgren and realized whose home they had broken into, they fled.

Let me make this clear: three possibly-armed and desperate thieves chose to abandon a potentially profitable crime rather than face the wrath of one Dolph Lundgren.

In other words, Dolph Lundgren already strikes fear into the hearts of criminals without even trying.

Plus, one time he dated Grace Jones, and that is just awesome.

Ladies and gentlemen, in consideration of the facts presented above, I proclaim that Mr. Dolph Lundgren- fighter, genius, perfect human being- must and will become the protector of mankind. Thank you.

Please Forgive

2010-08-29T11:56:00.000-07:00

You may have noticed that my tweets have been rather infrequent as of late. They have particularly lacked themes relating to a certain ironically-enjoyable smattering of published self-help/relationship brain poop.

I am not unaware of the situation, and I am doing as much as I can to rectify it.

It was my hope to finish LaPergs vs. Love by the end of the summer, but life, as it is wont to do from time to time, happened. Today, I am at work filling in for the coworker I have never met. Last weekend, my friends and I enjoyed a haphazard, yet successful trip to Montauk where many tomatoes were purchased and consumed. The Sunday before that...hell, I can't even remember. I might have slept in. Who knows? Life is full to bursting right now and all the days are blending into a underslept blur. I am more than busy. I am bizay.

But I am not giving up on this project. Jennifer Love Hewitt's crap book has hardly seen the last of me. I cannot make any promises of when I will return to snarky tweeting. Perhaps next week. Wait, no. That's my sister's birthday. Crap.

Well, it will happen at some point. That I can promise. Probably.

Stay tuned.

New York Love Letters

2010-08-18T05:07:00.000-07:00

Dear Lady Wearing A T-Shirt With A Necklace Design Painted On It,

That's not a real necklace. You're not fooling anyone.

Sincerely,
Amanda

Dear St. Marks Hipster Sporting Some Kind of Mullet/Dreadlock Abomination,

Nobody needs to be that ironic.

Regards,
Amanda

Dear Subway Performers Breakdance-Miming To The Theme From Halloween While Wearing White, Expressionless Masks,

I thought I was past the point where I could be scarred for life. Thank you, sirs, for proving otherwise.

See you in my nightmares,
Amanda

Dear Advertisement For Eat, Pray, Love,

That settles it. I'm getting gelato.

Kisses,
Amanda

YouTuesday: The Economic Upturn Edition

2010-08-03T21:06:00.000-07:00

Summer was really horrible for a while. The catering jobs stopped coming in, my awesome Shakespeare class ended, and my ennui rose with the temperatures. Those were dark times. I drank iced coffees like it was my job- a job that paid negative $3 a day.

Then, fate intervened. My temp agency fixed me up with a sweet early morning office gig, and I never thought I'd say this but thank God for corporate America. I feel renewed and refreshed. Food tastes better. The air smells fresher. I feel reborn. I feel...like I could put on a show!

Bless you, office work. Thanks to you I now have a blazer. Bless your face.

Words of Wisdom

2010-07-27T20:37:00.000-07:00

To be an artist means: not to reckon and count; to ripen like the tree which does not force its sap and stands confident in the storms of Spring without fear lest no Summer might come after. It does come. But it comes only to the patient ones...in bed.

-Rainer Maria Rilke (improved by Amanda LaPergola)

WTF? Email From A Dude

2010-07-25T19:27:00.000-07:00

Recently, a few friends of mine ~~pressured~~ encouraged me to join a dating website. I have nothing against online dating. I know there is no longer shame associated with the practice, all the old stigmas have faded, it has become more acceptable and mainstream, etc. I'm perfectly willing to give online dating a chance, or at least I was.

Until the other day, I hadn't yet been traumatized. I had received some rather nice messages in my inbox, nothing to scare me away from the internet completely...and then this appeared.

I don't know how to describe it. It's...it's freaking epic. You have to read it for yourselves.

What follows is the original message in its entirety. Names have been changed to protect the...whatever he is.

(Note: try reading it out loud in a "Borat" voice to get the full effect.)

My love forgive that I said My love so, but this against me and found my hands and my mind and my heart say my love 0 i am [guy] from Egypt 39 years old0work scince teacher I love romance Do not ask me how this happened I found myself immersed in your love other than that I feel now I'm very happy, I love a beautiful woman and thin like you all what I hope from you when we get married to continue to treat me tenderly and romantic love and tenderness always, remain together until death and that we would have you and I boys and girls 0 What do you think Do you like children? "I am sure you will be tender and perfect mother, but you must promise me to be after marriage, straight, and do not know of men other than your husband only that's all I ask you because we are here community east of I traditions and customs, including to maintain the wife's dignity and honor of her husband and not try to betray them and have sex with one other that's all I'm asking you and I hope that consensual marriages and to build me and you a happy family and live me and you in a house full of love and safety Romance 0 You know the most beautiful security I wish it and imagine always is that I imagine myself every day when we get married, you and I and we would have a beautiful child and when I am going to work, kiss you nicer kiss and you tell me(bye, my love, O [guy] I hope to come back to us quickly and kiss your beautiful lips and magnificent ) I love you and I wish to marry you, [guy]

So...did I just accidently marry this guy through the internet? How does he know I will be "tender and perfect mother"? My profile is incredibly sarcastic and hints strongly at my love for a certain fighting-themed video game. I'm not sure he even read my profile; he just looked at my picture and tried to read my chakras or something. And what the hell, talking to me about extra-marital sex when I haven't even said "hello" yet! I'm a wild stallion, baby: you can't tame me!

And way to not come on strong, dude. Congratulations: I'm officially afraid of someone I haven't even met yet. That better not be you throwing pebbles at my window right now. At least try to aim away from the air-conditioner. I need that to get through the summer.

Oh, don't get me wrong: I'm flattered in a kind of don'tfuckingknowwhatthehell kind of way, but I'm not ready for a love so great that it defies logic or grammar rules. I think I'll just throw this one back and keep fishing.

Necessary Steps

2010-07-12T21:33:00.000-07:00

It has recently come to my attention that my headshot, while serviceable...

...was sorely lacking in Blingee.

I have taken steps necessary to correct this oversight. Here is my new headshot, as it should have always been:

Glitter Graphics

It's a start.

I Can't Figure Out My New Phone

2010-07-06T21:22:00.000-07:00

My old phone committed suicide when it realized it didn't have any "apps". So I upgraded to a Zoid and...I don't know how it works.

It doesn't flip open.

There's no dial pad.

Just a screen. A crazy, futuristic screen.

It actually frightens me how little I understand my new phone, yet already it seems to know so much about me. It already knows my email and all my Facebook friends. I feel like I've just started dating somebody who has been stalking me for months. That's a really creepy way to start off a new relationship.

Who are you, crazy phone from the future? What do you want from me? How do you work? And where are you hiding my old contacts?

YouIndepence Day

2010-07-04T08:48:00.000-07:00

To honor America's birthday, here is a pre-House Hugh Laurie with a musical tribute.

In conclusion: America.

Cry Out 'Olivia!': A Portrait of Self-Loathing

2010-06-30T20:12:00.000-07:00

I don't watch much T.V. these days, and I only ever watch G4 in the frustratingly rare instances that Ninja Warrior is on. Therefore, I do not know who this Olivia Munn person is, but I have been hearing a lot about her lately.

Recently, The Daily Show tried her out as a new correspondent. I think she came off fairly well in her first segment, and it heartnes me to see TDS at least attempt more gender diversity (though in my opinion the show would be better served investing more in Kristen Schaal. How can you deny Penelope, Princess of Pets? I like The Daily Show alright, but in light of the recent sexism allegations the program could benefit from the good karma that hiring Schaal full-time would bring, but that's a post for another day...)

After that one TDS segment I have not been able to escape the woman. She is everywhere these days. So, who is this new lady of ubiquity? Who is she and why does she mystify me so? Is she to be admired...or feared?

At the heart of it all, Olivia Munn is a woman who is pretty and likes geeky things, and men like her for being pretty and liking geeky things. That's a first strike against her good name, at least in my book. You may not know this, but it was originally my idea to capture the love of millions of nerdy men by becoming America's next geek-affiliated, hot-yet-accessible sweetheart. That's right, Ms. Munn is not the first to have thought of courting this great country's basement-dwellers. I drew up that plan long ago, and I would have succeeded, too, once I had gotten in a few more leg-lifts. But before I could stake my claim in swept Olivia Munn stealing my schtick, starching the neurosis out of it and presenting it to the public in a shiny, pretty, half-Asian package.

Well, great. There is no way I can compete with that. A pretty, geeky girl who is also half-Asian. I'm not half-Asian. I'm not even a sixteenth-Asian. I am as un-Asian as they come. Sure, there was a rumored distant relative on my father's side who may have been Mongolian, but how do I capitalize on that? Nobody dreams about having a debatably part-Mongolian girlfriend. It's a very small market. Point: Munn. You, madam, have bested me with your ethnic make-up. And sexual confidence. And your experience in modeling. But mostly your ethnicity.

In 2007 Munn appeared in Playboy, though not nude. According to her recently published book, there was pressure from the Playboy creative team for Munn to pose naked, but she heroically resisted. That is pretty admirable, I have to admit that. It can be hard to stick to your guns in the face of Playboy's years-tested machinations. Really, Playboy just generally frightens me in a way that hits my prudish sensibility. I can barely muster up the courage to wear shorts in the summertime let alone pose nude. I would never be able to enter the Playboy offices without fearing that a brusque, but comely eighteen-year-old would rip the clothes from my body in one fell swoop while Hugh Hefner cackled behind a two-way mirror. So no Playboy for me. Score one for Olivia just for showing up. Now, if there was a magazine called Ill-Fitting Jeans Monthly...

Speaking of her recently published book, Olivia Munn had a book that was recently published. Why is everyone writing books these days but me? I guess it's just a Hollywood-mandated rite of passage: get famous, write a book. All famous people must write books without exception. It doesn't matter what the book is about, you can figure that out in post.

I have not formed anything into a book-like state yet, but I am toying with the idea of compiling all my "LaPergs vs. Love" tweets into something. It's a potential project. It's in the works. I'm planning stuff. I'm seriously going to think about doing it. I just need to get in a few more leg-lifts.

So Olivia Munn has accomplished much more than I have. The only thing that brings me some comfort is that she is my senior by nearly a year. If she were younger than I and successful I would not even be here writing this. I would be locked in my bathroom, weeping bitterly as I tore my hair out looking for that one grey. You know the one.

Yet despite all my fears, insecurities and anxieties about myself, my career, and my body image, deep down I feel that there is room enough in the world for both me and Olivia Munn. There is room enough for all of the me's and the Olivia Munn's everywhere. I may be jealous of her success, but I do not begrudge her for it. She has her path in life, and I have mine. She does not have to live her life in fear that I'm lurking out there waiting for the moment to destroy her. I may be a tad insecure, but I'm not about to get all stalkery about it. It's not worth my time or engergy. I've got better things to do...

...like officially challenging Olivia Munn to a game of Super Street Fighter IV! That's right, Munn! I challenge you! Officially! It is not just on, IT IS AWN! Think you can out-geek me? See if you can keep your geek goddess crown from slipping off while my Cammy is handing you your half-Asian ass! You just try keeping the nerds' respect when they see you crumble beneath my arcade-warrior fury! You want to be America's leading fanboy obession? I will crush you under my sneakered foot while the fanboys watch in terrified awe! If you want to stake your claim in the world of button-mashing fame, you better be willing to fight! This is it, Munn! I'm taking you down! You don't know what kind of shit you've stirred up! I will end you, Munn! END YOU!

And if you do not accept this official challenge, I take that as a forfeit thus declaring me the winner. So, BRING IT! OR DON'T! EITHER WAY I FEEL BETTER ABOUT MYSELF! BOO-YAH!

Call To Arms

2010-06-17T21:03:00.000-07:00

There is a new movie based on The Smurfs being made. You must not go see it.

It is going to be terrible. You know it will be. Tell me that this little teaser did not just rip out a chunk of your soul and toss it in a blender. I cannot even muster the strength to crack the requisite "mosthersmurfing horrible" joke. This movie has already broken me and it will break you, too.

If you go to this movie, if you pay money to see this...thing, you are saying to the filmmakers and producers that its very existence is acceptable. You will be complicit in this. You must not let this happen.

Hope is not lost. You can make this horrid thing go away. When The Smurfs starts its publicity campaign in earnest, turn a deaf ear to it. When the film hits theatres in 2011, vote with your wallet. Go see something else. Ignore it completely. Make the loudest noise by making no noise at all. Invoke the Jay Sherman mantra. Just don't let the madness go on or before long our once-great nation could be facing the threat of a live-action Snorks. WE MUST NOT FAIL.

You can make a difference. Good night, and God bless.

Lost Talk: Losterdämmerung

2010-05-27T18:47:00.000-07:00

It's been nearly a week since Lost ended. It's taken me a while to come up with a proper recap because I couldn't quite get my feelings in order. I appreciate the fact that Lost was a show that took risks and didn't insult its audience's intelligence, and the finale was a testament to its spirit. At the same time HOLY FUCK ARE YOU FUCKING KIDDING ME, SHOW?!!

Anyway, for one take on the Lost finale, check this out. For an opposing view, go here. This is just for fun.

But, we will always treasure everything that Lost has given us as a show, like HOLY CRAP, JINGLISH! "I STILL HAVE A HOLE IN MY SHOULDER!" AL! Echobisi! Cleavage of DOOM! Bernard! So-and-So! What's-her-face! The Canadian One! "So, Rose's husband is white? Who saw that one coming?" PolRBrLuvR: THE OTHERZ R COMING; EmCityRULZ: ROTFL!!! "No! I'm going to get back Mike and Walt and it has nothing to do with my issues and my daddy and wife love me and I can fix anything and Sawyer's in love with Kate!" Locke's fist + Charlie's face = OTP! "I'm Crazy Rousseau!" Claire tells baby Aaron that they will always be 2gether 4ever and never to part and she'll never let a dingo eat him ever. All the people of Flashbackistan loved John for his impecible home-inspections, he had the love of a fair maiden, Helen, and his combover was the greatest in all the land. Aw, Hurley! You're adorable! Don't let this island of washboard abs get you down. A vengeful Charlie sabotages Sawyer's turn as Joanne in Company, and then steals the show by performing a knock-out rendition of "The Ladies Who Lunch" (that may have only happened in my own mind). Eko and Locke watch Orientation 2: Electric Bugaloo. Ashes to ashes, dust to dust, we lay our drunk drivers in the earth's crust. Sawyer got glasses and started dating Juliet and that was actually very sweet and heartwarming, so of course Kate and Jack showed up to ruin everything. Nobody questions Hurley when he tells him that the voices in his head know what to do. AH! CREEPY BLONDE KID! They go inside the lighthouse and as per Jacob's instructions set the dial to 108 degrees because Jacob is not subtle about anything. "No, silly! I took him! I took him off the island and raised him as my own!" Schmiz Schemmon explains that she was busy working on her night cheese when she looked up and noticed that everyone else was dead. Jacob can turn people into Highlanders, but reanimation or absolution? That's just asking too much! "Wah, my son is dead, wah, my daughter won't speak to me, wah, wah, wah, all because of the thing that I have to do that is so important that I just can't outright tell you what it is." No! Sayid! You're too hot to die! Also, what about Captain Pilot? What happened to Captain Pilot? Where are your tears for Captain Pilot?? Why do perfectly awesome characters have to get killed off while Kate can take a bullet to the shoulder and still survive? Answer me that, God! Answer me! And Ilanna Arst'd herself.

As for the finale, it can be summed up thusly: Jacob sucks, Hurley is the chosen one, rocks fall, everyone's dead.

I mean...I cried. I'll admit it. As far as finales go, it was exciting, heart-warming, and everything that has made Lost so watchable for the past six years.

However, I feel kind of cheated upon finding out that Sideways World was really purgatory. I loved Sideways World. I wanted everyone to stay there and have the lives they could have had without the burden of The Fucking Island and Jacob's shenanigans. I feel like that's what the characters deserved. Also, while I am glad that Sawyer and Juliet finally got back together, there is no god or smoke monster that can ever convince me that Sayid and Shannon are soulmates. Shannon wasn't even important enough to be mentioned in the two-hour pre-finale special. Nobody cared about Shannon. Everyone was fine with Shannon being dead. At least, I was, so I assume everyone else was, too.

In the end, all the Losties that we allegedly still cared about paired off, two-by-two, as a man named Christian Shephard led them into the great beyond. What do you mean "symbolic"?

Still, it was nice to know that Captain Pilot survived.

Anyway, yeah. Lost. It's over, dude. Weird.

Lost Talk: The Gradually Catching Up Edition.

2010-05-23T22:05:00.000-07:00

Well, that's it. Lost is officially done and over now. I know we all want to discuss everything that happened...

...but I have three episodes to catch up with before we can get into that.

6.14 "The Candidate, or The One Where The Best Characters Die"

Oh God, this episode! This one had me heartbroken/angry like no show has ever done to me before. I don't mean that as a compliment. Or perhaps I do. Let me confuse what I mean:

In Sideways World, Jack fixes up Locke's back after the "accident" in the parking lot (the one where Desmond ran down Locke with his car. That is still so not cool, show!). As Locke recovers, Jack informs him that he could possibly, maybe fix up his spine for real. Locke is reluctant. Jack persists. Locke doesn't want to take the plunge. Jack wants to fix things and Locke won't let him fix him. We've got a real Mexican stand-off here.

Well, Jack won't rest until he has fixed abso-fucking-lutely everything, so he tracks down vital info about Locke through Locke's dentist (dentists have such information?) and finds out that Locke's father, that con-man bastard Anthony Cooper, is now a vegetable. In this timeline, Locke ended up in a wheelchair due to his disastrous first flight with his pilot's license. The crash also left Locke's dad permanently disabled and, oh God, the guilt. The horrible, spine-severing guilt. So, no new spine for Mr. Locke. Guilty people don't deserve working legs.

Meanwhile in Island time, Smoke Monster-enhanced Locke, Sayid, and Jack free the other Losties from Widmore's people. They then make their way towards the Ajira plane, but Smocke is about 50 steps ahead of them. He gets to the plane and easily dispatches the two Widmorons guarding it (he pauses to remove a digital watch from one of the bodies- curiouser and curiouser...). When Jack and Friends arrive at the plane, Smocke informs them that the plans have now changed. Widmore rigged the plane with C4. They can't leave the island via plane because...

No. It's not time for Admiral Ackbar yet. Be patient, Amanda.

So Smocke proclaims that in lieu of proper air travel they will be leaving The Island by submarine. Jack is still reluctant to leave because of his recent conversion to the Church of Jacob. Sawyer could care whether Jack lives or dies so long as he can keep Smocke from leaving on that sub with everybody. They all get to the dock where the sub is tethered and as they get on board Widmore's people shoot at them. It's almost as if they don't want them to leave. Kate takes a bullet to the shoulder (yay! I mean...I'm a bad person.) Jack shoves Smocke in the water and tries to get Claire on board but there is too much confusion and shooting and bullets and Smocke and so they leave without her. Again. Claire is devastated, but Smocke's all "Don't worry about it. You don't want to be on that sub anyway." Whatever does he mean by that?

We quickly find out when Jacke, rifling through his backpack for something to patch up Kate's shoulder hole, pulls out...a cleverly constructed time bomb.

Okay, now:

That was really hard to hold back.

As you can imagine, things become rather tense after that. Jack hypothesizes that if they leave the bomb alone it probably won't go off. Smocke can't kill the precious candidates because of The Island's kooky rules, he states. Sawyer has seen what Jack's logic has done in the past and isn't about to start listening to him now. He pulls the two wires connecting the timer (that digital watch!) to the C4 which, according to Sayid, should have dismantled the bomb. Not only does that not work, it makes the timer tick down faster. Sayid gets in a quick redemption by informing the rest where they can find Desmond, the special snowflake that is the key to everything, alive and well. He then grabs the bomb and runs as far away from everybody as he can before it blows him and part of the sub up. No! Sayid! You're too hot to die!

Everything goes to hell pretty quickly. Sun gets pinned to the wall by a cabinet and some twisted pipes. Jin stays behind with her while the rest swim to the surface. Sun begs her husband to save himself, but Jin will not abandon his beloved Sun now. Near, far, wherever they are, Jin's heart will not go on without her. They proclaim their love one final time and hold hands until the last bit of life has left their bodies. It is a heartbreaking visual that will certainly drive you crazy when they show it at the beginning of every remaining episode. Thus ends television's most beautiful couple ever.

The surviving Losties make their way to the beach. When they realize that their friends are gone forever they cry bitterly. Oh God, Hurley crying is like watching a puppy get kicked. Also, what about Captain Pilot? What happened to Captain Pilot? Where are your tears for Captain Pilot??

Two more episodes to go before the last hurrah. Even now, several weeks after this episode has aired, I'm still pissed. Why did Sayid, Sun, and Jin have to die? Why do perfectly awesome characters have to get killed off while Kate can take a bullet to the shoulder and still survive? Answer me that, God! Answer me!

We shall continue tomorrow.

Lost Talk: The End of Everything

2010-05-23T14:17:00.000-07:00

Oh, hello. How long have you been standing there?

Yeah, I lost track of the recaps again. Yes, yes, I know the series finale is tonight. I'm sorry.

What happened? Well, the same thing that happened the last time I stopped recapping: life. I have a life full of work, obligations and ADD, and that made keeping up with the blog very difficult. Life is the reason why I can't be a full-time artist at the moment. I am just a mortal 29-year-old woman who is trying to grasp every bit of life she can while she can.

But, Lost. I have been watching it. I have thoughts. I have spoilers for the past five episodes. I'll sum up as quickly as I can...

6.12: "Everybody Loves Hugo"

On The Island: Richard has, like, the best plan ever you guys. He wants to blow up the plane to keep Smokey McDeath from escaping into the rest of the world. The ghost of Michael would beg to differ. They go to The Black Rock to get dynamite, but Hurley gets there first and blows it up. The Black Rock blows up big, long and hard. Richard is pissed. He, Ben, and Miles go off to Otherville to get whatever they can to fight Mocke while Hurley, Jack, Sun, and Captain Pilot go off to...talk to Mocke. They are going to talk. To Mocke. I'm not going to use my Knowledge From The Future to say that things are not going to end well because...well, I won't.

Also, Ilanna blows up.

In the Sideways World Hurley is a billionaire philanthropist and does awesome things for people all around the world, but his Mama doesn't care. She wants grandkids, damnit! Why is she never satisfied? The more things change... She gets Hurley to go on a blind date with some girl who never shows up, but guess who does? Libby! And she knows, man. She vaguely remembers The Island and their brief romance and it kind of makes her think she is crazy. Hurley thinks she may be crazy, too. He angsts about it for a bit and eats his feelings (in the form of a bucket of chicken) until Desmond shows up to play Touched By An Angel. He gets Hurley to believe that life is too short to wonder whether your possible soul mate may or may not be crazy. Life is for loving! Live while you still can! So, Hurley and Libby have a picnic on the beach (the date they never had!), and Libby kisses Hurley causing him to remember flashes of their past together on The Island. Hurley knows, too, man! Desmond watches them from their car and practically winks at the camera before driving off...and into Locke's wheelchair. Seriously, he smashes right into a handicapped man as he crosses the parking lot. Apparently, Desmond was trying to get Locke to "remember" or something by causing a near-death experience, but what if his planned too well and he killed him for real? What the hell, hero?

6.13 "The Last Recruit"

Mocke is full of surprises for Jack. He reveals that a.) he was the one who appeared to Jack as his dead dad in season one, and b.) Claire is Jack's half-sister. Then, there is business about Widmore demanding the return of his "package" (hee!) and boats and double-crosses and Sayid killing Desmond (Mocke shoved him down a well, you see) and... Sawyer sneaks off The Island with Kate, Claire, Sun, Jack, Hurley and Captain Pilot (yes, I know he has a name), but...what's this? Jack thinks they made a mistake! Get off Sawyer's boat, Jack! So, he does. He calmly steps off the boat and swims back to meet Mocke and All The Rest who are then attacked by Widmore's people. Well, that's one way to take care of superfluous cast members. Best of luck to you, Cindy and kids!

When the boat gets to Hydra Island Sun and Jin share a reunion so sweet it puts the English back into Sun's mouth. Let us savor this moment. Shmiz Shmemmon cannot stand anything sweet and good. She pulls guns on all the Losties, forgetting her own advice that you can't solve all your problems by shooting someone or setting a stranger on fire. Our heroes are now captives and Jack is in the hands of Lockeness Monster.

In Sideways world: So! Much! Happens! Jack learns that Claire is his sister and that's why she was named in his dad's will. Sun and Locke (the real one) are wheeled into Our Lady of Plot Convenience- the only hospital in Los Angeles. Kate tries to blackmail good cop James Ford, who leaves to nab Sayid just as he's about to leave Nadia forever! All the while, Desmond smirks and twiddles his fingers as he mutters about everything going according to plan. Who on the writing staff decided to make Desmond a Black Hole Sue? (also, thanks to tvtropes.com for helping me understand this show in a way I didn't think possible)

Gah! Three episodes to go and I have to leave! And by the time I get back the show will be over forever! Looks like I'll be putting in a late night.

Round Two: FIGHT!

2010-04-16T18:02:00.000-07:00

This Sunday marks the triumphant return of "LaPergs vs. Love" (or "LaLa vs. Love", depending on whether you know me from college or a national tour of Camelot).

Tune into my Twitter account at 1 PM Eastern Standard Time for another live reading of Jennifer Love Hewitt's magnum opus The Day That I Shot Cupid. Hello, her name is Jennifer Love Hewitt, and she's a love-aholic.

Last week we learned about the dangers of misinterpreting Greek mythology, tequila-fueled pitch meetings, and the abuse of punctuation. What will we learn this week? Tune in to find out.

You're A Baby!

2010-04-16T17:33:00.000-07:00

This is the trailer for a movie called Babies.

I'm not going to lie. I am going to watch the hell out of this movie when it comes out.

I like babies. I do not want one right now as I already have one fur-covered, special needs son to attend to, but I appreciate babies from an observational stand point. They are squishy little bundles of life driven completely by curiosity and instinct without the burden of learned societal habits and affectations. They are fascinating to watch because they are as honest as any human being will ever be have not learned yet to care what other people think.

That first scene a lone was like a one-act play. The fact that Baby A immediately went back to rock-hitting while Baby B got his/her cry on was priceless. It was funny because no one was trying to be funny. I could watch it over and over again.

I think we could all learn something from babies. I don't mean we should just lean over and bite anyone who bothers us, but we could definitely all benefit from moments of unplanned, unexpected life.

Also, BAAAABIEEES!

Last Night...

2010-04-12T12:27:00.001-07:00

...I had a dream that combined elements from Lost, Street Fighter, and the movie about Anne Frank I had just seen on PBS.

The dream involved a Richard Alpert-like, immortal Anne Frank battling Evil Ryu.

It was the greatest dream ever.

LaLa vs. Love

2010-04-10T16:26:00.000-07:00

I used to hate Jennifer Love Hewitt for no reason other than why most teenage girls hate other teenager girls. So, no good reason, really.

I'll admit now that it was straight-up jealousy that abetted my hatred. This woman was not much older than me but was already leading a life of riches and fame. She had TV shows, roles in film, a somewhat successful pop album, she had it all! She also dated Carson Daly (he was kind of hot back in the day) and Patrick Wilson at a time when I wanted nothing more than to be wrapped in the sweet, self-deprecating arms of Jon Stewart. Bitch even got to be Audrey Hepburn. Audrey fucking Hepburn. I played Elsa in my high school's production of The Sound of Music. "Who's Elsa?" you ask. Not Audrey Hepburn in a made-for-TV movie, I'll tell you that much.

In short, Jennifer Love Hewitt had everything and I had nothing. Thus: hatred. Pure, unfiltered, unjustifiable hatred.

Later in life I became more involved with coming of age, college, adulthood and all that that entailed, and J. Love gradually fell off my radar. I even supported her during that stupid publicity storm about those pictures of her in a bikini. As a woman with a largesome ass, I sympathize. So, we both got on with our lives and our respective careers and that was the end of the story.

And then, she wrote a book.

Now, who am I to judge someone else's explorations of their creativity? I am an aspiring actor and writer myself, and I've reached a point in my life where I can support others in their pursuits while remaining secure in my own abilities and artistic path. So, Jennifer Love Hewitt wrote a book. Good for her. I won't read it, but good for her.

And then, I read this:

"On page two of the introduction, the word "TRUTH" (in all caps, thusly) is followed by 23 exclamation points. On page three of the introduction, the word "love" is followed by five question marks. Two sentences later, the word "CUPID" is followed by two exclamation points. Three pages into the book -- pages of the introduction, which comes after the preface -- you're already basically reading the late stages of an Internet message-board meltdown."

Well, now I have to read it, don't I? I haven't had some good, literary crack in a long time and I refuse to let the Twilight books suck me into their web of crazy. This book is reasonably short and too good to pass up.

Tomorrow at 12 PM Eastern Standard Time, I will start live-tweeting my experience reading The Day I Shot Cupid; Hello, My Name is Jennifer Love Hewitt, And I'm A Love-aholic (actual full title). Grab your own copy and follow along at my Twitter feed. Remember, I am not doing this out of hate. I am doing this because...it has to be done. You know, for science.

Casting Notice Conversation

2010-04-07T20:42:00.000-07:00

"Do you want to be on Playboy's hit show, Foursome???"

No.

"Are you wild, uninhibited and sexually open??? Do you want to explore your wild side?"

No.

"The show is about 2 hot guys and 2 hot girls spending a 24 hour period in a gorgeous luxury mansion. It is a REALITY show with 4 hot singles looking to explore their wild side......so we are looking for FUN and WILD types who love to have a great time."

NO and NO.

"Since this is a Playboy program, so you must be very comfortable with your body and nudity is required."

NO!

"If you are selected and appear in the show, you will be paid $500 for the 24 hour period and all other expenses for the evening will be paid."

Um...

Lost Talk

2010-04-07T09:47:00.001-07:00

Why did I make a commitment to recap the last season of this show? There is no way it can possibly end in a way that won't completely fuck my mind/make me throw something across the room. Oh well. I've only got five episodes left. Might as well stay the course.

Previously on Lost: Sideways Sun and Jin are not trapped in a stifling marriage. They are rather unstifled and not even married. Sun's dad sent them both to L.A. so Jin could deliver a watch and money to some guy (and Sun needs to be there because...?). They are more or less caught with their pants down by that guy Keamy ('the hell kind of name is that, anyway?) and there is business about translators and Customs and bank accounts and restaurants, and in nutshell: Sun's dad knows that Jin is diddling his daughter and has sent Jin to pay for his own assassination. Just like in Kangaroo Jack or any similarly-plotted but better movies.

Jin is tied-up and left in a restaurant walk-in, and I think we know what happens after that. Sayid slips Jin a box cutter and he frees himself just as Sun arrives with that other gangster guy from the bank. There is a gun. There is a struggle. Shots go off. Jin gets hold of the gun and shoots the gangster in the eye (bitch). But, alas! Sun has been hit by stray bullets! And she's pregnant! Cliffhanger!

In the regular timeline Sun goes to work on her dried-up little garden when Fake Locke appears and offers to bring her to his side where her husband waits for her. Sun, no fool, runs hell for leather and straight into a tree. The tree knocks all the English out of her and she's pretty mad about that and all she wants to do is get her hot husband back and GOD! Jack, because he doesn't suck anymore, is able to figure out that Sun can still write in English and convinces her to come with the group to do whatever it is they have to do.

Jin, by the by, has been stolen by Schmiz Schmemon and Widmore's lackeys. Widmore uses Sun's digital camera to manipulate Jin into doing whatever it is he wants Jin to do. He explains that if he doesn't stop "that thing" from "doing something" then the whole world will go "BAAAD!". Then his people drag in Desmond.

I was kind of hung over when I watched this episode, so I don't really have much to say. NEXT!

This week, on Lost: Dessy wakes up and Widmore says that he has to do a "thing" for him. Des more or less shows Wid where he can shove his thing. Oh, wait.

Cut to Schmiz and a bunch of other science guys doing science stuff with two big metal donuts in a crate. They accidently kill somebody during routine maintenance, because they are just that good. Des is tied up and stuck between the Metal Donuts of Doom and Wid bitches about sacrifice. "Wah, my son is dead, wah, my daughter won't speak to me, wah, wah, wah, all because of the thing that I have to do that is so important that I just can't outright tell you what it is." God, show.

So the giant, metal rounded pastries of deliciousness do...something painful-looking, and we cut immediately to Tsol. Des is gainfully employed (by Widmore!) and is comfortable but unsatisfied with life. Wid tells his bestest, most trusted employee to babysit a druggy rock star so that Wid's son Daniel can stage the conceptual musical crap of his dreams. Surprise, it's Charlie. Charlie rattles on about mind-blowing, conscious-altering true love in another life and how he only felt it while choking to death on a condom full of heroin, but it was fucking real, man! Hey, Charlie? That wonderful other life you're talking about? You drowned in that one. Food for thought, that's all I'm saying.

Des thinks Charlie is full of heroin-laced shit, so Charlie forces Des' car off the road and into the ocean because...why not? They both have a near-death experience which clues Des into the other continuity and his relationship with Penny. Later, at the hospital (apparently, the only hospital in L.A.) Des is put in an MRI to check his brainworks. Instead of revealing a tumor that hadn't been detected before forcing Foreman to tear House away from his favorite soap opera, the MRI causes Des to have visions of his other life with Penny. MRI must stand for "Magical Reality Images".

Shortly afterwards, Desmond goes to the concert which Daniel's mom has organized. He regrettfully informs her that Drive Shaft will not be bringing their godless rock-and-roll this lovely afternoon. Despite much foreshadowing about Mrs. Widmore's cutthroat bitchery she seems genuinely unfazed by this major hitch, but when Desmond tries to check the concert guestlist she freaks the fuck out. Eloise Widmore might just know something, you guys.

Des goes back to his limo to drink. Widmore's musical son, Daniel (Daniel Faraday!) follows him and talks about this red-headed woman (Charlotte) that was so beautiful it caused him to have feverish dreams of hot, steamy...equations. Daniel then hypothesizes that "What if all this wasn't supposed to be our life? What if we had some other life and for some reason we changed things?"

And this was the moment where I just threw up my hands. So Daniel now thinks that this life was never meant to happen? It was his idea to set off the hydrogen bomb so that the island would never exist and everyone could live their lives normally. Why the sudden change of heart? Because Charlotte gave him a boner? Whatever. Fuck you, Daniel. And fuck you, show.

Des and Dan then talk about Penny, because Des suspects that she might just be his soul-mate, assuming that she even exists. Dan says "Hey, she totally exists! She's my half-sister and I can tell you what large, empty stadium you can find her in after dark!" Des goes to the stadium where Penny is running the shit out of some stairs and the two have a meet-cute.

At this point I must stress something very important to any impressionable young men who watched this scene: this does not work in real life. If you approach a woman alone in a large, unpopulated space at night she will probably not be very open to your advances, honorable though they may be. She will probably be more inclined to run away or spray you with mace. If you must meet a woman who might be your soul-mate, do it in the light of day in a normal situation that is not totally fucking creepy. This has been a public service announcement from your friends at ¡Viva La LaLa!

As soon as Des and Penny shake hands he wakes up on The Island in the "present" time. The Twin Berliners of the Apocalypse did not kill him. Apparently the entire "flash-sideways" happened in Desmond's head during the few seconds that he was unconscious. Des is now cool with whatever plan Widmore has for that thing that must be done because everyone and their daughters are in danger and SACRIFICE!

We flash back briefly to Tsol. Despite the incredibly sketchy circumstances of their first meeting, Penny is charmed enough by Des to make a coffee date with him. I must strongly reiterate that this does not work in real life. I don't care how much you believe in that other parallel life where you and this woman are blissfully married with a child. In fact, if you mention that, it will only creep her out more. Just plan to run into her in the supermarket or the laundromat or some other place where you are less likely to be mistaken for a rapist. You're welcome.

The point of this brief sojourn back to the sideways universe is to show that Des plans to track down every passenger from flight 815 and show them exactly what has been missing in their lives. That's going to be quite an inconvenience for those whose lives have actually improved in this universe. Again: throwing my hands up. Nobody can be happy if The Island doesn't want them to be. I don't even.

Speaking of The Island, we see Schmiz and a few red shirts leading Desmond somewhere. Sayid comes out of nowhere, ninjas the red shirts to death and scares off Schmiz. Sayid says to Des "We need to go. Now." Des is all "Sure. Of course. Whatever." If Desmond doesn't care anymore, why should we?

The previews for the next episode promise to be Hurley-specific. Thank God. If Hurley can't make me love this show again, then there is no hope for any of us. Now, if you'll excuse me, I have to go sit in a corner and rock back-and-forth.

¡El Conversacion de Lost!

2010-03-29T17:38:00.000-07:00

For some reason, this particular episode is proving difficult to recap. Maybe it was the radical change in format that threw me off (only a show like Lost would have the stones to shift from sci-fi mystery to historical melodrama). Maybe I'm conflicted in my suspicions about Jacob's motivations. For whatever reason, this episode has knocked me out of me groove, so instead of a proper recap I'll just list off a few points of interest:

-Richard was once "Ricardo" who lived with his consumptive wife on the island of Tenerife in 1867. They were poor. Did I mention Ricardo's wife was consumptive?

-All rich people are assholes.

-Your local priest does not care about your eternal soul even if you only killed somebody by accident. Enjoy hell, sinner!

-A wooden ship, when propelled with enough force, can lay waste to a solid stone structure roughly four times its size and still remain largely intact.

-Also, a golden crucifix can remain buried up to one-hundred and forty years without suffering tarnish, discoloration or erosion.

-In short, Lost does not care about your silly "logic".

-Jacob can turn people into Highlanders, but reanimation or absolution? That's just asking too much!

-Hurley can talk to dead people and his intervention prevents Richard from joining Fake Locke. And yet, it is Jack that Jacob wants to replace him, because...he's conventionally handsome?

-I just got sidetracked from writing this for half an hour watching old G.I. JOE parodies on YouTube.

-Jacob is the only thing keeping delicious wine from spilling out of its bottle and all over the world. Or something. I think it was a metaphor. The point is, delicious wine...

-Why did Jacob beat the ever loving snot out of Ricardo when he wandered onto the beach with a knife but calmly let Benry stab him to death?

-This really was a good episode. It really was. And yet...my brain has nothing.

-Wait! I...nope. Nothing.

-Instead, I direct your attention to this. Look down. Back up. Where are you? You're on a blog, with the blogger your blogger could fail like.

Yeah, so...that wasn't my best. At least I tried, right? That counts for something. Right?

Lost Talk

2010-03-23T09:07:00.000-07:00

I put off writing this episode for as long as my time-wasting talents would allow me. I can't help it. I'm a Pro-Crastinator. I believe in Crastination and all that it has to teach us.

This week's episode is focused on Sawyer, and you know what that means! It means this:

I love that little ditty.

Locke-In-Black tries to lead his new band of followers to the other island where a plane waits to fly them away to freedom. He sends Sawyer over there first to check and make sure nobody is waiting in a submarine to kill them. Sawyer goes to the island and finds the plane in good working condition. The passengers...not so much. They're all kind of dead. Then, Sawyer meets this person:

We don't know what her name is yet, but for the purposes of this recap let's call her Schmiz Schmemmon.

Sawyer asks Schmiz what her deal is. Schmiz says that she is the only surviving passenger from the plane. She explains that she was busy working on her night cheese when she looked up and noticed that everyone else was dead. I watched this episode at my friend's apartment (we had Bellinis) and they can attest that at that moment I started screaming "LIAR!". Over and over again. Quite loudly. Fortunately for my friends and their neighbors it wasn't long until the big reveal that Schmiz is actually working for Widmore who has parked his sub nearby.

Sawyer bargains with Widmore: "If you want the smoke monster I will lead him to you, but you have to let me and everyone else go." Widmore agrees. Maybe. When Sawyer gets back to the original island he tells L-I-B, "I told Widmore that I would bring you to him, but what we're really going to do is jump his ass." L-I-B believes him. Probably.

I forgot to mention when Sawyer was gone Claire tried to stab Kate to death while Sayid looked on unmoved. It was the greatest thing ever. Unfortunately, L-I-B intervened and then talked to Kate about how his mom was crazy and now Aaron has a crazy mom and blah, blah, blah. All this talk is not going to get Kate killed any faster. Unless L-I-B is trying to bore Kate to death then I'm not interested.

At the end of the episode, Sawyer confides in Kate that while Widmore and L-I-B are busy killing each other the two of them are going to get in the sub and escape, because earlier Sawyer found Kate's dress in the dirty cage where they had dirty cage sex in season three and it made him nostalgic. Somewhere in the beyond, Juliet is making plans to haunt the hell out of both of them.

In Tsol: Sawyer is still a con-man. No he's not! He's a police officer! And he's not "Sawyer", he's James Ford. And Miles is his partner.

Miles fixes James up on a date with his dad's coworker (Charlotte) and it goes well. There is small talk and sex eyes followed by actual sex. It's pretty much the most successful first date ever, or it would have been if Charlotte didn't stumble upon James' secret "Sawyer" file. You see, even though James made the decision to stay on the right side of the law, his family was still destroyed by the con-man who called himself "Sawyer", and James is still looking for him. James flips his shit and kicks Charlotte out.

Later, Miles confronts James about the recent trip to Australia he took. James won't tell him the painful truth because it is painful. They break up. James looks into a mirror and punches it because Lost is about many things but subtlety isn't one of them. James returns to his sad, barely-furnished apartment to drink and watch reruns of Little House On The Prairie alone, alone, alone. The words of Michael Landon inspire James to apologize to Charlotte. Charlotte tells him to go fuck himself. I kind of like Charlotte. Sure, it's hard not to fall for James Ford's puppy-eyed, oft-shirtless charms, but he did treat her badly. Good on her for sticking up for herself.

Having failed at one reconciliation James apologizes to Miles and pretty much tells him everything about everything. Forget Kate, Juliet, or Charlotte. I think that Miles is James' one true soul mate. Suddenly, UNEXPECTED CAR IS UNEXPECTED. There is a car chase. There is a foot chase. James apprehends the hooded driver, and it's Kate. Oh, great. Now we have this.

So, that's the episode from last Tuesday. Tonight's episode promises to be about Richard, and FOR THE LOVE OF GOD ANSWER SOME FUCKING QUESTIONS, SHOW.

Beezus Wept

2010-03-18T10:09:00.000-07:00

Are you kidding me? Are you effing kidding me??

Ramona And Beezus

Hey, Selena Gomez. When you get to be the ripe old age of twenty-eight I hope somebody takes a piece of your childhood and pisses all over it like a dog marking its territory, too. Stay away from my nostalgia, you blasphemous whippersnapper! And get off my lawn!

Holiday Mirth

2010-03-16T20:46:00.000-07:00

St. Patrick: Knock, knock.

Snake: Who's there?

St. Patrick: God.

Snake: God who?

St. Patrick: God told me to tell you to get the hell out of Ireland.

Snakes: Why?

St. Patrick: Because GOD, THAT'S WHY.

...And that's why we celebrate St. Patrick's Day.

He wasn't even Irish, by the way.

Lost Talk Preview

2010-03-16T20:33:00.000-07:00

There will be a proper recap in the following days (I want to say tomorrow, but let's not make promises we may not keep). In the meantime, let's just address the elephant in the room:

Yup.

Also...

Charlie's brother is bailing Charlie out of trouble. At least this universe has a sense of humor.

Lost Talk: The Epic Catching-Up Edition

2010-03-14T19:24:00.000-07:00

Damnit, I made a commitment to recap the final season of Lost and I'm already four weeks behind. It doesn't help that I'm working most nights and auditioning constantly (yes, really for real) so I'm dead tired by the time I get home. It also doesn't help that for a long time I thought the show was still airing on Wednesdays, which it turns out...it's not.

So now I'm going to try to catch up to this week's episode by recapping the last four episodes in one post. And...GO!

Faux-Locke (who is really the Smoke Monster who is really the Man In Black who is not really Johnny Cash) makes his way to Dharmaville where Sawyer has forsaken manly, sexy tears for whiskey and underwear. Sawyer figures out right away that Flocke is not Locke, but he's too heartbroken and drunk to care, so he follows him into the woods where AH! CREEPY BLONDE KID! Flocke chases after him, which gives Richard- or as I like to call him, Guyliner- a chance to warn Sawyer that Flocke is evil and vengeful and omigod SO BAD, but Sawyer, again, does not care. Flocke takes Sawyer to a cave by the sea where there is a symbolic scale with symbolic stones and names and numbers freaking everywhere. Flocke explains that Jacob, The Island Jesus, was selecting "candidates" to take over his job of protecting The Island from...something. Flocke says fuck that mystic bullshit, let's leave this God-forsaken place before we all rot here. Sawyer says, "Hell yes." Seriously, that's what he says.

In Alternate Reality Lost (Tsol), The real Locke is still in a wheelchair and still not happy about it. BUT! He is engaged to his one true love, Helen (yay Katey Sagal!) and is apparently on good terms with his father. So...how did he get into that wheelchair then? Locke is fired from his crappy job because he tried to go on the walkabout instead of the conference his company sent him to Australia for in the first place. A reasonable justification, but his boss is a douche about it. Locke runs into Hurley out in the parking lot (Tsol has been kind to Hurley, but I do not approve of his car. Only people with small penises drive Hummers, Hurley.) who hooks him up with the temp agency that he owns. At the agency, Locke meets Rose, who works as a manager, and he whines about how he can't do the things he wants to do. Rose is all "Dude, I have cancer. Deal with it." And so he does. He takes a job as a substitute teacher at a local high school where his coworkers include AH! BENRY! HE'LL TRY TO KILL YOU WITH A FORKLIFT! RUN!

Was that everything for that episode? Let's assume so. Moving on!

The ghost of Jacob tells Hurley to take Jack on a super special secret mission. Jack and Hurley leave the temple and run into Kate along the way. It is super-awkward between Jack and Kate. Hurley mentions something like he expected those two to have millions of babies. God, I hope not! Can you imagine a world filled with copies of Kate and Jack? I don't think the universe could handle that much angst. Hurley and Jack pass locations and objects from season one until they arrive at...a lighthouse? Now, where the hell has that been all this time? They go inside the lighthouse and as per Jacob's instructions set the dial to 108 degrees because Jacob is not subtle about anything. As the dial is turned Jack catches glimpses of things in the mirror and, lo, there are names written all about the dial. Names of people on this show! Jack makes Hurley turn the dial towards his name and sees his childhood home in the mirror. What? Why? Why has Jacob been watching Jack all this time? Didn't he get bored? Jack smashes the mirror and goes to sulk by the edge of the sea. While Jack is sulking Jacob appears and tells Hurley to not be in a rush to go back to the temple since everybody there is totally about to die. Jacob is kind of a jerk. No, I mean it. He has no problem if dozens of his loyal followers are brutally slaughtered but GOD FORBID if anyone harm a hair on poor, precious Jack. Jacob sucks.

Elsewhere, Claire tends to Jin's wounds and keeps the one guy from the temple that she didn't kill as a prisoner. Did I mention that Claire is batshit insane and I love it? It's a shame that on this show I don't start liking many of the characters until they go crazy. She threatens Temple Guy to tell her where her son, Aaron, is because she believes that they took her "baybee". Jin tells her that Kate, actually, took Aaron. Claire responds by killing the Temple Guy with an axe. Quite reasonable, if you ask me. Jin says "J/k, I just said that so you would spare Temple Guy. Your kid is totally at the temple." Claire crazily answers "Good, because if that skinny emo bitch had taken my son away from me I would kill her so dead!" I really love new Claire. Mocke then arrives. Jin is understandably confused. Claire refers to Mocke as "her friend".

On Tsol: Jack has a tweenaged son and turns out to be a better father in this reality then he was a doctor, leader, hero, husband, boyfriend, plan-maker or functioning human being in the regular one. Also, mysterious scars are mysterious.

Two more to go!

Things do not go well for Sayid at all. Dogen is still trying to have him killed and there is an awesome karate fight. Claire is sent by UnLocke to the temple to deliver a message: UnLocke wants to speak to Dogen. Dogen is no fool. He knows once he's outside the temple Smokey will jack his shit up good. He sends Sayid out in his place with instructions to kill UnLocke. Sayid obliges and...it doesn't quite work. UnLocke is only mildly annoyed at being stabbed in the heart. Instead of outright killing Sayid, he offers him a deal: help me out and I will give you anything you want. Anything is a lot of stuff, so Sayid considers.

Kate returns to the temple and find out that Claire is also there. She goes to where Claire is being held and it is quite clear to even the most casual observer that Claire is out of her fool mind. Never the less when Claire mentions that the temple guys have her "baybee" Kate smiles and tells her "No, silly! I took him! I took him off the island and raised him as my own!" Kate is so stupid. We can practically see Claire mentally sharpening her axe.

Sayid returns to the temple with an announcement: Smokey is on his way. Anyone who is still hanging around here by sundown will die. A lot. Half the temple people stay and half of them clear out. Sayid goes to talk to Dogen by the resurrection jacuzzi. We then learn more about Dogen's past: He was a banker in Osaka who had a little too much to drink when he landed a big promotion. He then went to pick up his son from baseball practice...it didn't go very well. Jacob came to Dogen and told him that he would save his son's life but he would have to come to the island. And never see his son again. Ever. Seriously, Jacob is a jerk, you guys. Sayid absorbs this painful, revealing story from Dogen, and then he drowns him. So much for Dogen. I was really starting to like him, too. All my favorite characters are either crazy or dead.

Then, all hell breaks loose. Smokey goes on a rampage, slaughtering every hippie in sight. Kate goes off to find Claire. Miles meets up with Ilana, Sun, Captain Pilot, and Benry. Benry goes off to find Sayid, but Sayid is evil now so that was all for naught. The rest take shelter in a secret compartment. When all the killing is done, Claire and Sayid practically pimp-strut out of the temple and Kate (probably) reluctantly joins Flocke and his followers.

In the Tsolniverse: Sayid's one true love Nadia (suck it, Shannon) is alive! Yay! But she's married to Sayid's brother. Boo! Sayid's brother tells Sayid about a bad loan that he took out with a less than legal organization. Sayid is reluctant to get involved until some representatives from the company make Sayid's brother pay interest. In blood. Sayid is taken away to be threatened by some thugs and it takes less than a minute for Sayid to kill them all. He's so badass. WHY CAN'T HE EVER BE HAPPY??!

Also, he finds Jin in a walk-in.

Home stretch! One more episode until I am finally caught up!

Miles can find out the final thoughts of the recently deceased as long as their corpse is nearby. Ilana just happens to have Jacob's ashes with her, so let's find out what really happened to Jacob, shall we? Why, it turns out Benry killed him. Who would have guessed?

The group of survivors return to The Beach Where It All Began and Ilana immediately shackles Benry to a tree and forces him to dig his own grave. While he digs, Locke the False appears before him and offers him the opportunity to escape, kill Ilana, and join his group of followers on the other island. Benry makes a dash for it, but when he has Ilana at gunpoint he explains why he killed Jacob and apologizes. Ilana is touched by his honesty. Benry says that he will join Locke the False because "No one else will have me." Ilana: "I'll have you." It is really a lot more poignant then how I probably just described it.

Meanwhile, Jack and Hurley are making their way back to the temple (with Hurley a bit reluctant to return). They are intercepted by Guyliner, who leads them to the Black Rock (that inland ship) instead. Guyliner is sick of Jacob's shit, and since Jacob's "gift" prevents him from killing himself he asks Jack to do it for him. Jack lights a stick of dynamite and then...sits down for a chat. Hurley leaves because Hurley is smart. Jack posits that the dynamite will not go off, that something will stop them both from dying because, guess what? Jack? He believes, man! He finally found the faith that has alluded him for the past five-and-a-half years. About fucking time!

And Jack was right, the fuse went out before it even reached the dynamite. Jack, Hurley, and Guyliner return to The Beach and have a tearful reunion with Sun and co. while Benry watches like a sad puppy. Also watching this reunion: Widmore! He's here in a submarine! Shit is about to get real!

And on Tsol: Benry, as mentioned before, is a high school teacher and is upset at the way the jackoff principal is running things. Locke suggests that maybe Benry should be the principal which makes Benry feel things he's never felt before. He then gets a juicy tip from his favorite student (Alex!) that the principal has been diddling the nurse in the eye-exam room. With the help of his coworker's (Arzst!) l33t hax0r skillz, Benry confronts Principal Douche with some incriminating email conversations from the nurse in question. Oh, but what's this? The principal just received a request for a letter of recommendation form Benry's favorite student Alex. So, what's it going to be? Is Benry going to take the power he has always craved at the expense of Alex's future? Old Benry might have, but this is New Benry and he is enlightened. It's a heart-warming episode overall.

And...THAT'S IT! I'm all caught up! That was a lot of typing. Let's never let that happen again.

Stuff You Can Buy For Me

2010-03-14T16:59:00.000-07:00

My birthday is coming up soon. Very soon. Less than a month from now in fact. I am not nervous in the least. Turning a year older requires very little effort on my part.

On my birthday it is tradition to give gifts to the one you love. Namely, me. If you want to celebrate my birthday the right way, you better get me something. Tradition!

"But, Amanda," you wonder aloud, "I don't even know you. I just stumbled onto this blog looking for Street Fighter slash fiction. How could I possibly know what to get you?" First of all, stop talking to your computer screen. It can't talk back. Secondly, fear not, John Q. Internet! I have a few suggestions as to what you could get me:

1. A Sake Set
There's a great Japanese restaurant that serves free sake during their happy hour. Unfortunately, due to my crazy schedule I am very rarely in my neighborhood during the hours of 4 to 7. I would like to replicate the experience of enjoying hot rice wine in my favorite place with this set and a playlist of late-nineties/early-aughts pop music. My ITunes are ready to go. I just need the sake set.

2. XBox 360
Last year I bought myself a copy of Street Fighter IV for the Xbox. The fact that I didn't own an Xbox at the time didn't sway my purchasing decision at all. I just needed to have that game in my life, even if I couldn't play it. I'll hold it. I'll read the manual. I'll sleep with it under my pillow. Sometimes, I'll smell it. Now Super Street Fighter IV is coming out later this spring and I am currently in a heated bidding war on Ebay for an official fightstick controller. I think I am going to need that Xbox.

3. Any dress from ModCloth

Seriously, any dress.

So pretty!

J'adore!
Uhh...maybe not any dress, but most of them.

4. Street Fighter Snuggie

I swear to God, this thing exists. No, it's not available online. No, I don't know where you can find it. I have heard rumors that have mentioned Best Buy, FYE and Spencer's Gifts. But it is real, it is out there, and I must have it.

This person is not me. If she were me, she would be much happier. Look at her: wrapped in a warm, street-fighting embrace with El Fuerte hovering dangerously near her crotch. I can't think of anything closer to heaven on Earth. Won't you help me get there?

5. Decent Coffee Shop With Wifi In My Neighborhood

This one may be a bit trickier to come by, but if you can pull it off I can almost guarantee you an extra-large slice of birthday cake.

So, there it is: my birthday wishlist. Don't defy tradition. Get me some stuff!

Super Street Fighter IV: Now With Extra Awesome

2010-02-17T21:48:00.000-08:00

Ohboyohboyohboyohboy!!!

It's Makoto! She's in the game! And she's still awesome! I am so very happy. This game now officially has all of my favorite characters! It's like somebody at Capcom said "Let's make this one just for Amanda. We owe her that much."

Also at 2:44 in the video a voice that may be Hakan's kind of references something I had joked about back in October. Hakan, really likes oil. This will be interesting.

Lost Talk!

2010-02-17T07:15:00.000-08:00

Today's a Lostnesday! To help you keep track of what is going on, here is a completely biased and slapped-together recap of last week's episode:

Sayid's a zombie, except he's not, except he totally is. We know something is wrong with him because Awesome Japanese Guy (henceforth known as "Dogen") does a torture test that reveals...something.

Dogen tries to convince Jack to give Sayid this "medicine" he made that will make Sayid "better". Jack, for once in his epic fail of a life, decides not to be an idiot and calls Dogen out on his bluff. Dogen admits, "Okay, yeah, we were totally trying to kill your friend, but only because we have seen what is happening to him happen to another." "Who?" asks suddenly-awesome Jack. "Your sister!" Duh, duh, duh...who's Jack's sister again? Oh, right. Claire.

Apparently Claire got dead, then got better from the dirty baptismal waters of the temple, then got...whatever it is Dogen is alluding to. In any case it supposedly made Claire a trigger-happy mountain woman. Aw, how cute! She's trying to be the new Rousseau. As if anybody could ever match Rousseau's level of awesome crazy.

In other news, Sawyer mans his way out of the temple to run back to the house he had shared with Juliet and cry manly, sexy tears. Since Kate is an idiot she decides to go after him- mostly to make sure that he is okay, but also maybe to try to patch things up between the two of them. However, the sight of Sawyer's manly, sexy tears reminds Kate that his girlfriend died, like, five minutes ago and decides to give him a little space.

In Alternate Reality Lost...we need a better name for that. Let's call it "Stol". In Stol we see Kate steal a cab and be a complete jerkass to Claire. She kicks poor, pregnant Claire out of the cab, takes her purse and her luggage and leaves her stranded by the side of the road. And this is why I never liked Kate. Later when Kate goes through one of Claire's bags looking for clothes she sees all the baby paraphernalia and realizes just what a jerkass she's been. She goes back to Claire and gives her a ride to meet the couple who will be adopting her baby.

BUT! The couple can no longer adopt her baby as the would-be father left his wife a few days ago and the woman couldn't man up to tell Claire this before she left Australia. How conveniently inconvenient! Claire starts having contractions and is rushed to the hospital, but she's not going into labor yet as she finds out from- AH! CREEPY ETHAN! Except this is a different reality, so maybe he's not creepy? NO, NOW HE'S BENIGNLY CREEPY! RUN, CLAIRE! RUN!

But Claire doesn't run. She stays in the hospital and gives Kate a chance to escape. She even gives her her credit card. That's a smart move for a young woman alone in a strange country. Also, didn't Kate already rob her? But since she and Kate, like, bonded or whatever that makes it okay? I don't know.

The episode ends and I remain unchanged in my lack of like for Kate. Sure, she's a jerkass with a heart of gold, but she's still a jerkass.

Enjoy tonight's episode!

No Song For You

2010-02-17T07:09:00.000-08:00

From playbill.com: Oscar-nominated songs will not get spotlight on Academy Awards Telecast.

But don't worry, guys! There will still be plenty of montages and a painfully-long, awkward opening sequence.

Oh man, this year's ceremony is going to suck. More than usual.

Learning Is Important

2010-02-16T12:55:00.000-08:00

Pop quiz, Sagat: according to the Chinese lunisolar calendar, what year officially began this past Sunday? Please phrase your answer in the form of a projectile.

You win again, Sagat. You always do.

Happy Chinese New Year, everyone!

Hibikisms

2010-02-15T10:18:00.000-08:00

Oh, rapture! Oh, joy! I just discovered that Dan "Legend In His Spare Time" Hibiki has his own Twitter account. My life now feels oddly complete.

Enjoy these glistening pearls of Hibiki wit and wisdom and try not to fall in love. I dare you.

"On a flight for a match, sitting next to Vega. Keeps switching between amihotoraminot.com and watching Jersey Shore. His laugh is annoying.

That is terrible. His blog is called What Happens in Vega, Stays in Vega. Grooooooossss.

Alright, this was worth it. Quote Vega "Bison remade his entire fortress over, because there wasn't a closet big enough to hide in." Hahaha."

"Two handed fireballs are for people that can't handle throwing an attack one handed, and signing an autograph with the other. Learn to fight"

"I don't know who Robert Garcia is, but I want to stop getting his mail."

"Ugh, I have quite a headache. I think I accidentally punched myself while sleeping. Good thing I haven't been sleep fighting again."

"It's come to my passing that you find my twitter feed the 'funniest'. Please fix this, it should read 'the strongest'.

'Saikyoest' is also acceptable."

"Jimmy wants to know why I don't just grab them and bite their face. SAIKYO IS ABOUT FINESSE. It's about style & it's also about humiliation.

Jimmy says he knows all about finesse. He drinks it all the time. OH DEAR LORD.

No Jimmy NO. THAT IS HAIR SHAMPOO.

And that ... that bottle is totally empty. He guzzled the whole damn thing.

Well great. I don't even know where he got that from. I use the tears of the widows I make post fights to wash my ponytail in.

Bbiab- Taking Jimmy to the hospital, he's changing colors between Hard Punch then Medium Kick then Light Kick selection rather quickly."

"Zangief + Vodka on a string = Best use of props for a victory in days. It's up there with the old "Call Bison pretending to be the U.N." gag"

"Beat up Abel 2day, and he yelled out after a big ultra "I'll break your dick in half with my bare hands!". That's a hell of a threat. Wow.

In other news, Abel may not be appearing in Super SF IV, or at least the underpass level, because there are children running around."

"Life lesson - Never challenge Zangief to eat a brick. That is a bet you will lose."

"Currently doing Karaoke with Jimmy, Honda, and Guile. Song suggestions?

Jimmy sany Morris Day and the Time's 'Jungle Love' and Guns N Roses 'Welcome to the Jungle'. He nailed the scream by the way.

Guile sang the National Anthem then went to his van and drank alone for the rest of the night.

I wound up singing "You are So Beautiful" after going into the bathroom, and seeing myself in the mirror, I also sang Song 2 by Blur."

"Street Fighter the Movie w/o Dan Hibiki, is like a rainbow without colors. It's a blurry shape missing a reason to watch it."

"I'mma let you finish Sakura, but I just wanna let you know that Dan Hibiki is your best teacher of all time. OF ALL TIME."

"If Saikyo was on the Iphone as an application, it'd tear your phone in half. Jimmy mentions it should also have Sudoku and fart noises."

"Saikyo is the only martial art with Pantless Fridays. Thank god, it's Friday Saikyo Style."

"Be back in a bit, Mom needs help with the laundry. I wish she would stop calling me 'Unemployed Lout', the official title is 'Saikyo Master'"

"I can't count on my fingers, because my fists are always clenched. Needless to say, typing is less than easy."

"The path to victory is paved with underestimations of your potential by others."

"No, despite Guile's ideas of a fun day, watching a 24 hr marathon of Top Gun, is not on the 'Top' of my list."

"I don't speak English in real life, I speak with my fists and feet, and sometimes puppets. Jimmy loves my puppet act."

"Was going to fight Ryu today, but he spent like 5 minutes adjusting his gloves before the match. He's like a woman getting ready for a date."

"This is annoying... Offering Dhalsim a high five, & every time, he either teleports and you miss, or he does it from across the room. Lazy."

"If you could be one animal, what would you be? Jimmy says he just wishes he was human looking again, and started crying. I'd be a fist."

"Mom says I need to get a real job. I explained being a martial arts instructor is very difficult, and I need an open schedule for tourneys!

She called me an ingrateful whelp whom hasn't done anything since Dad was killed. SORRY FOR FOUNDING AN ENTIRE MARTIAL ARTS STYLE. Jeez mom!"

"I think someone should let Bison know that MC Hammer called and he wants his pants back. I would, but I'm busy, watching NCIS. Oh Abby."

"Do not compliment Chun Li ever. If you tell her you can help make her buns extra sticky, do not attempt to show her how. She is anti-social."

"Saw Balrog at party store, buying alcohol. It's fun to watch him struggle with screw caps in boxing gloves and laugh from across the street."

"Zangief apparently really likes to wrestle bears. That seemed odd until Vega piped in he knew EXACTLY what type of Bears Zangief likes.

He tried to draw me a picture to explain, but this just looks like Zangief kissing Zangief on a napkin. I don't get it.

I practice kissing myself all the time, so if a fan tries it on me, I'll know what to do, b/c mother says I should practice getting a job."

"Sean was busted for underage drinking. He threw Basketballs at police cars. Kept yelling Bonus round!

It was all in good fun til they tasered him. Parry that, Sean."

The Interview

2010-02-10T11:25:00.000-08:00

So...do you go by "Han Juri" or "Juri Han"?

Whatever's most comfortable for you.

Okay, great. So, Juri, tell me a little bit about yourself.

Well, not much to tell. I guess my childhood was pretty typical. I was an only child, my dad was a lawyer, I did a lot of taekwondo growing up.

Uh huh.

Then, when I was about fifteen my parents were killed by an evil organization who wanted to take over the world and I lost my left eye.

Uh huh.

So I had my eye replaced with a feng shui engine that channels ki energy and concentrates it into a force to bring death and despair everywhere I go.

Okay then. What made you want to go into this type of work?

Death and despair? Well, I was still pretty mad about my parents being killed and-

No, I mean, why did you want to become a muse?

Oh, that! Well, to be quite honest I was getting kind of bored. Killing people was just not as exciting as it used to be. So, I saw your ad and I thought, "Why not?" You know, growing up I was so busy with taekwondo that I never got the chance to do something creative. Who has time for the school play when you're learning to break people's necks with your feet, right?

I know exactly how you feel.

And you know, maybe it'll turn out that it was just my quarter-life crisis talking and killing people really is what I'm all about, but I'm young, you know? Now is the time to try different things, get out there and drink from the cup of life, do you know what I mean?

Man, it's like we're the same person. I have to be honest, Juri, I didn't know what to expect when you came in here today. Mostly because you tried to kill me when I went to shake your hand.

Haha, sorry about that! Professional habit. Just give me some time and I'll shake it off.

But I've seen a lot of interviewees for the job, and I have to say I think we mesh really well.

Why, thank you! I have to say, I got a really good vibe from you when me met. I mean, after I tried to kill you.

I am prepared to offer you this job.

And I am prepared to accept.

Excellent! Welcome to the team, Juri! Just give me a moment while I send home the other applicants.

(Two minutes later...)

WHAT?!

Aww, like...boo!

(throws things)

Meh, whatevs. I got stuff to do, yo.

Now that was a really nice bathroom. So, what did I miss?

Juri got the job.

Oh, good for her!

RAWRRRRR!!!! (crash)

Hey, it's all good, G. Now, if you don't mind, I'm gonna jock-jam it over to one of this neighborhood's many fine bakeries and get spanakopitastic.

Why don't you take Roxy with you? It might take her mind off her, you know, destructive rage and stuff?

I never learned to read! (sob)

The Zombie-like Resurrection of Lost Talk

2010-02-10T09:58:00.000-08:00

Tonight's a new episode of Lost. I used to do a weekly feature on this blog called Lost Talk which recapped each episode in a way that satisfied me and, hopefully, you. In recent years I have gotten too caught up in multiple jobs and many failed attempts at becoming a productive member of society to keep up with the show, let alone recap it. Well, screw that. It's the very last season, and life will never be the same as we know it. I'm back on the path, man. The righteous path.

Ladies, gentlemen, and smoke monsters: LOST TALK.

(If we had a theme song, this is where it would be.)

Previously, on LOST: Um...everything. Most importantly: people got off The Island, but not all of them. Then the island disappeared and somehow that sent it back through time. Jin learned to speak better English and his hair got long and scraggly in a way that I approve of. Sawyer got glasses and started dating Juliet and that was actually very sweet and heartwarming, so of course Kate and Jack showed up to ruin everything. Locke got dead, but then he got better. Unfortunately, he became the evil type of undead, but at least he's not eating brains. Yet. The guy with the oddly-shaped head whose name I can't remember told Jack that a hydrogen bomb is going to fix all their problems and Jack, because he's Jack, believed him. Sayid got shot in a way that I do not approve of. Jack tried to set off the hydrogen bomb that will somehow fix everything, but Jack, because he's Jack, failed and things went from bad to "oh shit" rather quickly. Ben-not-Henry (never forget!) killed the Island Jesus and Juliet summoned her last ounce of strength to claim her Grand Moment of Awesome and beat the hydrogen bomb with a rock until it exploded.

And Ana Lucia remained dead.

And now, the episode proper:

We open with a shot of the first fated airplane flight that started the whole mess, but instead of splitting into three parts and crashing in a horrible way...the plane makes it into Los Angeles. Huh. So, I guess the hydrogen bomb did fix everything. Hooray for science!

BUT! The next scene opens on The Island in 2007 with our heroes gathered around the remains of Swan Hatch. So, wait...

Oh, I get it! Remember when we were all waiting for the release of Harry Potter and the Deathly Hallows and we all debated whether Harry would die or live? Little did we know that he would do both! Well, here we were waiting for the premiere of the last season of LOST wondering whether the bomb would work or not and it did! But it didn't. Well played, show. Well played.

So, now we have two alternate timelines to follow. Hooray! I love alternate realities! I love the idea that somewhere there exists a version of me that's a nuclear physicist. Or a ninja. Or both. That's the great thing about alternate realities: you can be anything you want to be! It's better than reading a book! Suck it, LeVar Burton.

Now we get to follow the aftermath of the death of Island Jesus and how it affects all our remaining Lostaways and we get to see our heroes enjoy the lives they were meant to enjoy once they landed in Los Angeles. You know, where Kate was going to jail and Locke was still crippled and Charlie was a drug addict and Sun and Jin were stuck in a stifling marriage...hey wait.

Anyway, Undead Locke is actually the Man In Black which is not Johnny Cash but something far worse: he brings death and despair wherever he goes and he doesn't even sing. Plus, he's the smoke monster. OF COURSE! Check that one off of your list of mysteries that need to be solved before the series ends. One down, 493 to go.

Sayid is still dying of gunshot wound so Island Jesus tells Hurley to take him to a temple. Nobody questions Hurley when he tells him that the voices in his head know what to do. At this point, would you? They take him to a temple and it's overrun by a gun-toting hippie cult lead by the most Japanese person in the entire world. No, seriously. He's really Japanese. He speaks Japanese, he knows karate, he maintains a garden of bonsai trees, and I bet somewhere in that temple he has a collection of manga. He's really Japanese. He puts Sayid in some sort of sacred water and it's supposed to cure him but instead...drowns him. Huh.

The awesome Japanese guy then finds out that Island Jesus is dead, so the entire temple goes into lockdown with ash sprinkled in protective barriers everywhere (ash supposedly keeps the smoke monster from touching you, but we find out in this same episode that the smoke monster can still throw rocks and stuff at you from beyond the ash.) Then, Sayid wakes up. From the dead. The episode ends before he can utter a single word, but I'm hoping it's not "braaains."

Juliet also died and it was sad. Woe.

And thus begins the beginning of the end. What's going to happen? Will the timelines eventually converge? Who else is going to die and come back to life? Is Desmond going to get naked again? And does this mean that Ana Lucia is coming back? Dear God, no...

Is MuseSearch 2010 Over?

2010-01-27T19:58:00.000-08:00

I need a muse that will really go the extra mile, kick some ass and whoop me into shape.

I think I need to cancel all my interviews, because I might have found my girl:

She'd be a great muse. She's inspiring! She's already moved me to create this:

Motivational Poster Maker

I've been motivated to be motivated. Surely, we have stumbled upon some sort of genius. I've got to trap this lightning in a bottle.

Muse Clues

2010-01-20T16:16:00.000-08:00

(It is a typical afternoon in Amanda's home. Amanda is trying to practice a monologue, her cat, Tux, is sleeping on the sofa, and her Muse...

...is lying in the floor staring at the cable wires.)

Amanda: Muse, why am I having so much trouble writing lately?

Muse: I don't know, man. Maybe you should try getting laid.

Amanda: That's kind of irrelevant to the situation.

Muse: Is it, Amanda? Is it?

Amanda: What we need to do is talk about your job performance. I feel like you've been slacking in your duties. More than usual, I mean.

Muse: Hey, screw you, man! I work at my own pace. You can't force genius.

Amanda: It's not a matter of forcing anything. You're not even trying.

Muse: I could say the same thing about you not getting laid.

Amanda: You're not offering any support. All I ask is for a little inspiration every once in a while. Instead, nine times out of ten I find you preparing for/in the process of/recovering from being drunk.

Muse: What's that? I can't hear you over the blender.

Amanda: Damnit, Muse! It's two o'clock in the afternoon! It's too early for a margarita!

Muse: How many times do I have to tell you, it's not a margarita. It's called Muse Juice!

Amanda: That does it! I was hoping that I wouldn't have to do this, but...I'm afraid your services will no longer be required.

Muse: Oh, I'm sorry. Did you want a Muse Juice, too?

Amanda: No! I've thought about it and I've decided to give you your two-weeks notice.

Muse: Notice of what? When the new season of Lost starts?

Amanda: Muse, I'm firing you.

Muse: Ha! Yeah right...

Amanda: I mean it.

Muse: You don't have the balls to fire me, man.

Amanda: In the past, you might have been right, but I'm twenty-eight years old and I need to start taking control of my life. I'll let you stay for another two weeks, but you need to start looking for a new job...and a new place to live.

Muse: I don't believe this! You can't kick me out, you need me! Who are you going to get to replace me?

Amanda: I'll find somebody. I've already gotten a few responses on craigslist.

Muse: You're already looking for someone? On craigslist?? You traitorous whore!

Amanda: Maybe if you had stayed sober and productive I wouldn't have to make this decision, but you forced me to this.

Muse: Aw, man! This sucks. Where am I going to go?

Amanda: That is not my problem anymore.

Muse: You're such an asshole.

Amanda: I'm sorry you feel that way.

Muse: And you still need to get laid.

(Who will Amanda get to be her new muse? Find out in the weeks to come!)

New Decade!

2010-01-11T20:17:00.000-08:00

2010 is kicking my ass already.

I thought that January was gonna be slow, but I have been crazy busy. I knew that catering would be quiet for a while (it usually happens after the holidays), so I've been exploring other jobs mostly in non-profit. At the moment I've settled on telephone fundraising, and let me tell you: asking people for money during a recession makes you feel awesome about yourself. Oh well. I strangely enjoy this job, mostly because it allows me to wear nail polish.

Meanwhile I have started auditioning again. I kinda let auditioning fall to the wayside these past few months. One of the more challenging aspects of being a working actor is trying to find the damn work. The other day I got myself up at 4:30 in the morning (an epic achievement on my part), went to the audition only to find a line already forming. Have I ever said how much I hate other actors before I get a chance to know them? Oh sure, once we all get cast in a show together I'm sure you'll turn out to be awesome and we'll be besties, but when my Ipod has run out of power and I'm forced to listen talk about how many tours you've done in the past two years or how amazing last night's episode of Glee was, it just makes me want to punch you in the nose job.

I'm not proud of my irrational hate, and waking up early does not make things easier. Waking up early plus rooms full of annoying people make auditions extremely difficult for me. That's why I find excuses not to do them as often as I should, and that is why I have not worked as often as I would like. The more you know.

Oh well. I'll try not to let the bastards get me down as I carve out a life for myself in this cold, unforgiving city. Here's to a new decade!

YouChristmasEve Gets Festive-ish

2009-12-23T17:17:00.000-08:00

I want to still believe in Christmas. My parents are making fish-based dishes as we speak. There are nifty alternative Christmas songs on the local public radio station. There are gifts under the tree. The tree is decorated. There is a decorated tree with gifts under it. It's Christmas, damnit.

Yet, I still feel a bit melancholy. I can't explain it. I don't know if it's the weather or my financial situation or my career or whatever. I just find it harder to get into the Christmas spirit this year.

At times like this I like to turn to things that make me happy. Mystery Science Theatre 3000 is always a dependable source of mirth. Let's see if it helps...

Christmas-related violence. That's a good start.

A little depressing given that Patrick Swayze died this year, but...the sentiment is still heart-warming.

Aw, it's a politically-correct holiday season!

I believe! I believe! The Warrior of Christmas has stabbed my heart with his flaming sword of Yuletide cheer and made it grow three times this day! Richard Baseheart bless us, everyone.

YouTuesday Presents The Most Guilt-Inducing Christmas Song Ever To Feature Patton Oswald And A Keyboard-Flute

2009-12-15T23:02:00.000-08:00

The title pretty much says it all. Also: David Bowie (kind of).

I don't know if I can feed the world, song, but tell me how I can get one of those keyboard-flutes and maybe I can make the world a sandwich. Does the world like provolone?

My Friends Decided To See 'New Moon' Tonight

2009-12-06T19:52:00.000-08:00

I could not face a sparkly vampire movie sober. So, I got drunk. Then I drank some more. I drank through the whole movie. I drank every time Bella did something life-threatening and stupid. I drank every time Jacob was shirtless. I drank every time someone bit their lip and tugged at their sweater. I got very drunk. I may still be drunk right at this very moment. In conclusion: drunk.

And what have I learned? That there is not enough "drunk" in the world to get me through New Moon.

You owe me $15 worth of Millagro, Stephanie Meyer. God knows you can afford it.

Indeed

2009-11-25T11:42:00.000-08:00

Jezebel exchange of the day from Random Dude Bites Girl at New Moon Screening:

cinematheques
10:20 AM

no! neither team vampire nor werewolf!

TEAM BELLA'S DAD.

immaculate.gaenor
10:21 AM

@cinematheques: Psssht. TEAM BELLA'S TRUCK.

cinematheques
10:22 AM

@immaculate.gaenor: TEAM BELLA'S DAD DRIVING TRUCK.

YouTuesday: Epic Edition

2009-11-24T22:08:00.000-08:00

Ladies and gentlemen, I present to you the greatest thing ever.

Happy Thanksgiving! And you're welcome.

YouTuesday Takes A Turn For The Douche

2009-11-10T21:22:00.000-08:00

I grew up in New Jersey and now I live in Queens. I've known a few douches in my day. They are everywhere.

Observe the warning signs: popped collar, spiked hair, Axe body spray. Seriously, these guys are the reason I don't go to the gym.

You think you're safe at your favorite bar? Oh hell no! Somewhere nearby is a douche banging down Jagerbombs waiting to rub his junk up against you. Run!

If you or someone you know has displayed the various warning signs of early onset douchebaggery, there is treatment available. I don't know what that is, but you can start by shaving off that rediculously-patterned facial hair and buying a shirt that wasn't designed by Ed Hardy. Also, if you see me at a bar, please don't talk to me. You have the power.

YouTuesday, Starring ME!

2009-11-06T20:10:00.000-08:00

Recently, some friends from the Renaissance faire I worked at this summer started a theatre company. This week they put on their first performance and I was so amazed at the amount of pure talent on that stage. I was proud of my fellow Rennies for working hard and pooling their creative energies to bring something amazing to life.

And I wanted in. I don't like being left out of anything.

So, I made my own audition tape. (Note to those reading this through Facebook: you're not missing anything. It's the same video I've posted twice already. I'm just taking it to another level.)

I know what you're thinking: the bangs really are flattering. Thanks for noticing.

For more info about [By The Mummers] check out their blog.

Progress!

2009-10-28T14:25:00.000-07:00

I've decided that in order to properly bill myself as a writer I should put out some actual writing. Besides blog posts, I mean.

And wouldn't you know it? Once I put in the actual work I managed to get myself onto an online literary journal. Who knew?

Please enjoy my first tentative steps towards a writing career here. I know. I'm scared, too.

Super ¡Viva La LaLa!

2009-10-26T15:07:00.000-07:00

There's been a lot happening behind the scenes here at ¡Viva La LaLa!. Don't think I have just been sitting on my ass doing naught but nothing. I have been sitting on my ass, but in a productive way.

I'll get to what's going on in my life, movies I've seen, catering shenanigans and my thoughts on current events, but what's really important right now is that Capcom announced a new Street Fighter game.

If you've been reading this blog regularly, or even if you've just had one conversation with me, you know that I like Street Fighter. Kind of a lot. Don't ask me why. Love doesn't have a reason.

I've played Street Fighter IV a couple of times at Chinatown Fair (not as often as I would like. A dollar a game? You're killing me, Chinatown Fair!). The gameplay is incredibly smooth, the graphics are beautiful and...I would snuggle Street Fighter IV if I could, okay? I love it. It's perfect. I worship this game with a reverence usually reserved for saints, dieties and Alan Rickman. Don't judge me. Stop it!

Now there's a new one. Super Street Fighter IV. It's like Street Fighter IV, only superer!

What makes this version better than regular, vanilla, stinky old Street Fighter IV? Why update the game at all? Why not just make a Street Fighter V? Because if Capcom did that they would be throwing out a long tradition of ~~milking the series for all it's worth~~ fine-tuning and perfecting each chapter in the Street Fighter saga as it goes a long.

That's right. I said "saga". There is a plot in there. Somewhere.

As your resident Street Fightologist, I'd like to share what information I have managed to glean from the internets about this game:

-Canon-wise this game will be taking place one year after the events of Street Fighter IV, which itself took place one year after Street Fighter II, or four years before Street Fighter III. Confused? Why?

-The current Street Fighter IV cast will be returning for the game, plus an additional eight characters.

-Confirmed returning characters are (sigh) T. Hawk and Dee Jay. They were originally slated to appear in the first Street Fighter IV, but were cut at the last minute...and nobody seemed to miss them. I'm just saying. (True story: when Capcom of Japan was developing the Native American Thunder Hawk his original name was slated to be "Geronimo". Before the game went into further stages of development an American staffer pointed out that OMGWRONG! and the name was changed.)

-Juri is a new character. According to Wikipedia:

"(Juri) is a South Korean character scheduled to debut in the upcoming Super Street Fighter IV. She is an agent of S.I.N. whose nickname is "Spider". Juri is said to have a warlike and provocative character and enjoys playing around with her opponent while beating them. She has a ki booster implanted inside her left eye called the Feng Shui Engine."

So her eyeball can help rearrange furniture? That sounds useful.

-Another new character being added is Hakan. He supposedly is an Arabic fighter who is obsessed with oil and wrestles. We can probably assume that he is not in fact obsessed with oil wrestling, but...it's still early.

-Other rumored added characters are Dudley, Ibuki, Makoto, Adon, Cody and Guy. The first three hail from Street Fighter III, the latter from Street Fighter Alpha. The Alpha series takes place shortly after Street Fighter I but was released after Street Fighter II and...look, I never said loving these games was easy.

-Really, the only character you need to care about is Makoto.

Seriously, she's awesome.

Well, I'm excited. Are you excited? I'm excited. I'm excited enough for all of us.

YouTuesdaySunday Tackles The Issues Of The Day With Soul

2009-10-18T09:49:00.000-07:00

The sex is crazy in here!

24-Hour Party Person

2009-10-11T12:00:00.000-07:00

The weekend is almost over. While the rest of the world slept in and went out to bars with friends, I battled carsickness, annoying coworkers and silent farts for over 24 hours.

The last time my company sent me out of town for a catering assignment I was so miserable that I swore I would never do it again. However, this past week when the opportunity to gain seventeen hours of work in a single event presented itself I jumped on it. Why? Because I am stupid. And poor. But mostly stupid.

To keep myself from going crazy, I "liveblogged" the entire process, from the moment I woke up to the moment I came home. Follow a long in my catering adventures! It's just like you're there! Except you weren't. How I envy you.

2:30 am- Merrr

2:38 am- Ungggh

2:46 am- Ngggnnh.

2:54 am- Blrrgh!!

3:02 am- Okay! Fine! You win, clock radio! Uncle!

3:45 am- Begin walk to subway. Still seeing the world through Ambien-colored glasses.

3:50 am- Stop at Dunkin Donuts for hunger medicine. In an amazing bit of foreshadowing I ask for a plastic bag. What could this mean???

3:52 am- I may be tired, but the good patrons of the local dive are still going strong. Bless their drunken hearts.

3:57 am- Pass a few drunk young men who call each other "bro". For some reason, I think of rape whistles.

4:09 am- To amuse myself I pretend that the subway is a ride at Universal Studios. The lingering Ambien may or may not be a contributing factor.

4:43 am- Arrive at designated pick-up location. I climb into van and try to make myself comfortable; fail.

5:05 am- Car sickness sets in. I attempt to vomit into the plastic Dunkin Donuts bag for the next hour or so.

6:12 am- Success!

6:35 am- We make an unscheduled stop so I can deposit my bag of sick. I also purchase gingerale and gum.

7:58 am- We stop at a service station to get breakfast. I am initially excited because the service station advertises an Aunty Anne's. My excitement wanes when I learn that it will not open until ten. I purchase a chicken biscuit.

8:35 am- We arrive in Boston but spend the next twenty minutes trying to find the party location. I notice that there are bars already open. And people in them.

8: 55 am- We find the building. It smells like basil.

9:43 am- It turns out they had breakfast waiting for us and the chicken biscuit was not necessary.

9:54 am- Service meeting! Our Boston captain tells us that James Earl Jones will be here! James Earl Jones! We know who that is, right? Darth Vader? "This is CNN"? Dude, we know who James Earl Jones is. You don't have to spell it out for us.

10:22 am- We still have more than 12 hours left? Fuuuck.

10:57 am- The room is mostly set up and I am finding basic human interaction difficult.

11:16 am- The event hasn't even begun yet and already I am dying inside.

12:29 pm- The set-up for this party is such a clusterfuck, and that worries me. In catering, clusterfucks are usually the opening acts for The Shit Show.

1:05 pm- There is a guy here who looks exactly like Benjamin Franklin. There is a portrait of the actual Benjamin Franklin on the wall nearby that can confirm this.

1:47 pm- People are still eating. Why are they still eating? There is nothing left to eat. LEAVE!

2:05 pm- They're gone! Now we can clear. The faster we clear, the closer we are to staff meal.

2:47 pm- Cleared! Where staff meal? Waiter want staff meal!

3:03 pm- There is no staff meal in my belly. I fill it with tragic petite fours instead. I call them "tragic" not because they aren't delicious (they are) but because they are about to be dumped and thrown away and never enjoyed by anyone. Hence: tragic.

3:08 pm- There are seven or eight more hours to go. I wish for death.

3:12 pm- I have dubbed one of my coworkers Annoying McStinkybreath. Arise, Annoying McStinkybreath. May your reign be short and far away from me.

3:18 pm- Staff meal! At last! Instead of conventional western utensils they have given us...chopsticks?

3:23 pm- Why chopsticks? We are not even eating Asian food. How the hell am I supposed to eat lasagna with chopsticks?

3:47 pm- Texted my friend Jackie the following: "If you shined a flashlight in my butt, you'd see I'm dying inside."

4:01 pm- Break's over. Back to work, servants!

4:02 pm- Jackie texts back: "How true". Thanks, Jackie.

4:33 pm- (sings) "This is the folding napkins song! We're folding napkins all night long! La, la, la, la, la!" Kill me.

4: 46 pm- I have just realized that I have never been to Boston in a context that was not catering-related. I have also just realized that Boston as a city has forever been tainted for me.

4:51 pm- One day a folded napkin will be judged not by the number of wrinkles on it but by the content of its character. I have a dream.

5:31 pm- Why hasn't this dinner started yet? Please, Lord, don't let me die before the dinner even begins.

6:35 pm- Nothing. Still nothing. My life is nothing. Nothing.

7:04 pm- Maybe it's the fatigue talking, but everytime I close my eyes I swear my heart stops beating a little. Must keep eyes open if I want to live.

7:15 pm- Popping champagne corks sound like really happy gunfire.

7:40 pm- We were told explicitly to not talk on the floor, but nobody ever said anything about silent farts.

8:02 pm- A guy at my table wants beer with dinner instead of wine. Beer! La, la, la, la, la, beer! Wine? No thanks I'll have a beer! That will bring us back to BORED. OH GOD I'M BORED.

8:04 pm- Our captain: "Get off the floor. Now clear tables. Now back on the floor. Off the floor, line up the entree sweep. That's a hold on entrees. Back on the floor. Off the floor. Why aren't you sweeping entrees?" YOU'RE TEARING ME APAAART!!!

8:39 pm- I have the following conversation with our captain-

Amanda: "Are F butlers serving out bread?"

Captain: "No. C butlers are."

Amanda: "But I'm a C butler."

Captain: "So you're serving out bread."

Amanda: "No, I'm serving out horseradish cream. F butlers are serving out bread."

Captain: "No, C butlers are serving out bread. It's on the steps of service."

Amanda: "We changed the steps of service."

Captain: "Yes but only the part where F butlers serve out horseradish cream."

Amanda: "So I'm serving both bread and horseradish cream at the same time?"

Captain: "Yes."

Amanda: "And F butlers are doing..."

Captain: "Nothing."

Amanda: "WHERE IS THE EARTH LOGIC AT THIS PARTY?!"

9:10 pm- We're serving coffee and dessert. So...close...

9:14 pm- AUGHHH!!! COFFEE POT BURNS WITH THE FIRE OF A THOUSAND SUNS!

9:16 pm- I haven't eaten in about five hours. My body is too tired to notice.

9:24 pm- Keep a stiff upper-lip, Amanda. Just think of all the money you're making.

9:30 pm- We're breaking down! Yeah! Let's break this motherfucker down!

9:56 pm- Annoying McStinkybreath is now claiming "If Tron didn't open the same weekend as E.T. it would have made a lot of money." Alright, that's enough. Back in your cage!

10:02 pm- We've stopped. We're not done. Why are we stopping if we're not done?? We have to keep moving, like a shark. If we stop, we die. I don't want to die on this dead shark of a party, I WANT TO GO HOME!

10:04 pm- Stacking chairs! Hooray! I love you, chairs!

10:10 pm- Almost...done...

10:18 pm- Al...most...

10:20 pm- Al...

10:21 pm- What is this bullshit about a missing box of linen? SEND US HOME!

10:22 pm- IT'S OVER! WE DID IT! (Victory lap)

10:26 pm- I dodge past a distracted coworker to claim the one bathroom. Hey, it's called "food service industry" not "food service friends".

10:42 pm- The longest ride home in the world begins.

11:12 pm- We stop at the service station again. The Aunty Anne's still isn't open. Oh God, why hast thou forsaken me?

2:23 pm- Back in Manhattan. I catch a cab home. I'm pretty sure I'm going to find my bed covered in cat piss.

2:47 pm- I was right. But I don't care. (Flop)

Fin.

(Epilogue: as if to make up for 24-hours of living hell, my subconscious treated me to a dream about Alan Rickman, a seaside house, and udon soup. It was lovely.)

What This Ad Really Says

2009-10-08T19:47:00.000-07:00

"Hey, kitten. You may be adorable, but you can't pay off my student loans. Fuck you, kitten."

What's Pissing Off Amanda Today

2009-10-02T11:24:00.000-07:00

What is this?

No, really. What the fuck is this?

I want to punch this show.

ETA: If this show had balls, I would punch this show in the balls.

ETA2: If this show had a face, I would punch this show in the balls.

ETA3: If this show had children, I would punch the show's children in the balls. And then I would punch the show in the balls.

YouTuesday Is Immortal (That Explains Everything!)

2009-09-29T20:48:00.000-07:00

I may or may not have watched a lot of anime series in the early nineties, so I may or may not be familiar with the genre and it's many cliches: over-the-top reactions, super techniques, convoluted backstories, guys that wear goggles, the "ones", talking about fighting more than actually fighting, main female characters who do nothing...the list goes on.

All that is captured so perfectly in Egoraptor's Girlchan in Paradise. If I knew, that is. I may or may not.

My favorite part is the theme song, which I may or may not assume is spot on:

Don't gimme your heart ache,
Girlchan you're mine and that's all it takes,
I don't want you though, you're not my fire,
Live on the edge of edge-living desire

That may or may not explain everything.

YouTuesday Gets Political

2009-09-22T21:17:00.000-07:00

Protect Insurance Companies PSA from Will Ferrell

My health insurance has always been good to me. True, they did recently stop coverage on all forms of mental health which raised the price of a one-month supply of anti-depressants to over three-hundred dollars, BUT Ambien is still dirt cheap. So, while I cannot afford to keep myself chemically balanced, I still have the option to overdose on sleeping pills.

Thanks, health insurance company!

Early Morning Bitch

2009-09-15T20:12:00.000-07:00

I did extra work today. I mean, I did not perform more work than I normally do. I worked as an extra on a film.

Films often have insanely early call-times for the unionly-challenged. I had to wake up at 3:30 to catch the transportation to set. If there's something I've learned in my 28 years of existence, it's that sleep-deprived Amanda is not the most enjoyable Amanda to be around. She can be a right bitch.

When I'm a tired bitch I can be much more vulnerable to stupidity. If someone says something stupid it actually causes me physical pain. Normally, I can get by without confronting stupid people by visualizing tequila and not acknowledging them.

I do not make many friends on set.

Today, an idiot really tried my patience. Stupidity is one thing. Aggressive stupidity is another thing entirely, and an intolerable thing at that.

Idiot: Man, Lady Gaga is retarded.

Amanda: ...

Idiot: She's all crazy-looking and shit. She's just trying to get attention.

Amanda: ...

Idiot: She's not even that talented. She can't sing, she can't dance...

Amanda: ActuallyshecansinganddanceandplaypianoandwritemusicandherVMAperformancewasAMAZING.

Idiot: ...

Amanda: ...

Idiot: Well, I stand corrected.

Amanda: Yeah, you should.

Idiot: ...

Amanda: ...

Idiot: But we can both agree that Katy Perry sucks, right?

Katy Perry does suck, but that's not the point. I just did not want to continue talking with this person. I tried to just ignore him from then on. Isn't that what you are supposed to do when you are not in a position to punch someone in the teeth? My parents raised me right. Yet, this guy was not taking the hint. He still tried to engage me in conversation. I shielded myself behind a copy of The Trial, hoping that the mere presence of Kafka would confuse him beyond speech. To no avail.

To make the rest of this tale more interesting, I'm going to capslock the parts I wish I had said, rather than bore you with what actually happened- which was me getting moved away to another part of the set for shooting. MY version is much better and paints me in a tough, take-no-nonsense light, which is why I have a blog in the first place.

Idiot: I just really hate MTV, you know?

Amanda: (can't hear; reading)

Idiot: It's just not fair how really talented people are ignored and all these jerks are getting videos and awards and stuff.

Amanda: (determined reading)

Idiot: I mean, where were all the good musicians at the VMAs this year? Where was all the talent? Where was Wilco?

Amanda: WILCO? THAT'S YOUR IDEA OF A GREAT, UNDER-APPRECIATED BAND? FUCKING WILCO?! WHY NOT SOMEBODY REALLY OBSCURE, LIKE NICKELBACK OR THE DAVE MATTHEW'S BAND? WHY DON'T YOU JUST DOWNLOAD SOME SHINS TUNES AND LET ME KNOW IF THAT CHANGES YOUR LIFE, YOU FUCKING WASTE OF OXYGEN!

Idiot: Uh...

Amanda: NO, NO. WE'RE NOT TALKING ANYMORE. I'M DONE WITH YOU.

Idiot: Buh...

Amanda: DONE.

I can be a real asshole in my own mind.

The ¡Viva La Hollywood! Minute Presents: A Special Message From Megan Fox

2009-09-15T19:46:00.000-07:00

I don't like horror movies, I don't like people who eat other people, and my feelings about Megan Fox are conflicted at best, but I am strangely excited for Jennifer's Body.

I know it's popular among the cool kids to diss Diablo Cody and her cutesy-contrived dialogue, but I still stand firm in my love for Juno. I thought it was clever and funny and it featured one of the most unique movie heroines I had ever seen in my lifetime. But what do I know? I'm just a girl with lady parts and my weak feminine brain is often susceptible to what I mistakenly find "entertaining".

I'm interested to see what Cody will bring to the table with Jennifer's Body. I've seen a few clips online, and my anticipation has not waned. Even the confounding Fox seems acceptable. Plus, J.K. Simmons is in it! And Amy Sedaris! And...Adam Brody? Who is this "Adam Brody"? Is he one of those guys from "The Hills"? Should I be excited about him?

Oh, wait. I was thinking of Brody Jenner. It's alright, then.

I will definitely see this movie the first chance I get, but I will need someone's hand to hold during the gory bits. Arms would be even better. Strong, masculine, man-like arms to shelter my vulnerable, feminine body as my delicate sensibilities struggle to process the horrors on screen (which in my hysteria I will probably mistake for reality). Later, I will need another pair of arms to surgically remove my ovaries before they drive me insane. How lovely to be a woman!

A Renaissance of Rebirthness

2009-09-13T11:59:00.000-07:00

I've been back in New York (the city, not the state. Well, the state, too, I guess.) for about two weeks now. It's been an interesting transition back into civilian life. I was very happy at the Renaissance Faire. It was the most fun and creatively supportive environment I have ever experienced. However, there are certain things that the city offers that I missed: public transportation, Apple Stores, Vietnamese restaurants, bubble teas, my cat, etc.

I have had alternately productive and lazy days since returning. I did very well at the Faire with it's daily schedule and constant artistic stimulation. I am back in the city now, and I am pretty much at sea. I have no set schedule. My schedule changes like the moon, if the mood had ADD and a caffeine addiction. It's very hard to get much done without the comfort of patterns and habit.

I have tried to combat this eternal schedule-shim-shammery by setting daily, achievable goals. Here are my goals for the fall:

1. Go to two auditions a week.

2. Go to two open mics a week.

3. Submit a piece of writing to a different publication every week.

4. Form a theatre company.

5. ????

6. PROFIT!

In spite of my determination, there have already been obstacles to achieving my goals. The bed has become suspiciously comfortable lately, and I have just discovered the "Games" application for my IPod. I will persevere, though. That is all you can do. All you have to do to be considered successful in New York is not die, or at least go down shooting. I plan to go up shooting. I will rise phoenix-like from the ashes of my own sporadic laziness in a glorious coronation of light and angels with sarcastic senses of humor. I have all my life to live, I've got all my love to give, and I'll survive.

I will survive.

Hey, hey.

My Sister

2009-08-31T17:36:00.000-07:00

My sister loves Twilight. I do not. I just want to put that out there so you understand a little bit about our relationship.

Right now she is discussing with a friend about what their vampire names would be. My vampire name would be "Indifference".

I love my sister. Like many sisters, we have our own set personalities and they have clashed in the past. While I am shy and introverted she is outgoing and friendly. When I was in high school I got through a tour as a field hockey sweeper because it was a position that did not require me to run too much. My sister played three sports. Three freaking sports. Who does that? My sister does. She's a machine.

We are separated by a few years in age. I remember when she came home from the hospital. There were toys waiting for me and my brother. It wasn't Easter or Christmas, but there were two stuffed animals waiting for us as if it were. There was also this strange little pink person-thing. That little thing was my sister.

Our differences can even be observed in our visages (I love that word: visage.). Some people have remarked how incredibly unrelated we look. My sister is tan and toned with short, blonde-streaked curly hair while I am pasty-skinned with long, dark, poker-straight hair. Ironically, I look more like a vampire than she, the Twilight-lover. However, we are both short. All LaPergolas are short.

Our chosen life paths are probably where we differ the most. The minute I could afford to leave home and move to the city, I did. I wanted to become an actress, so I made myself an actress. For a few years now I have travelled the long, spiral path of an artist- a path that is paved in temp jobs and aprons.

My sister stayed home and became a nurse. I do not know when she decided to become a nurse, but it makes sense. My sister's nature is compassionate and empathetic...and I envy her for it. She chose for herself a life in the service of others. She has invested herself in strangers' well-beings. That is something I cannot even begin to imagine. I am in awe of my sister's incredible heart and capacity for love. It's not something I can easily say to her face, but I will tell the world eagerly. I am so proud of my sister.

But the Twilight thing I'll never get.

I Got Bored

2009-08-30T11:27:00.000-07:00

So I synched up the intro to Street Fighter IV with Pat Benetar's "Love Is A Battlefield". It's kind of amazing how the audio/visual compliment each other. Not in a Wizard of Oz/Dark Side of the Moon kind of way, but if you want to try dropping acid...maybe it will help.

(Note: drugs are bad. ¡Viva La LaLa! neither encourages or condones the use of drugs. Don't do them. Especially the fun ones.)

YouTuesday gets DUNK'D!

2009-08-18T15:50:00.000-07:00

I'm home! I once again have air-conditioning and a workable internet signal. Huzzah!

I had a great summer. I learned much, made many new friends, but most importantly, I was publicly humiliated on a daily basis for the amusement of others. To give you a better idea of a typical days in the office, here's a clip of the Trial and Dunke show.

Here's what you need to know: hapless gypsy Medina Chergary has been forced to stand trial by the evil Sheriff Spector. After being found guilty on a trumped-up charge (eating babies) by the jury, Medina is sentenced to torture by dunking.

When Medina is wheeled back in, she makes one more joke about the Sheriff's penis and walks sadly back to the tiring house where towels and a dry chemise await. Later in the day, Medina is dunked again on another trumped-up charge (espionage). Let it be known that Medina is the only person in the shire who gets dunked twice.

And that's how I spent my summer vacation.

He-Man! He-Man! YouTuesday is He-Man!

2009-07-07T15:20:00.000-07:00

Did you enjoy episodes of He-Man back in the day but wished they made less sense? Then you will definitely enjoy this little ditty from the 1989 Bollywood gem Nafrat Ki Aandhi.

WARNING: You will never get the next five minutes and fifty-seven seconds of your life back. Ever.

My memory of the series is fuzzy, but who is the guy with the moustache supposed to be? Skeletor's creepy uncle? Oh, whatever. Chahiye He Man!

You Are High And I Am Not Interested. Good Day.

2009-06-26T14:44:00.000-07:00

Desperately searching for a wifi signal, Amanda traverses the shores of Lake Ontario on legs still sore from Coach Ricky's Workout of Doom. Suddenly, a voice calls out. She turns. Behind her stands a young man. His age looks to be about twenty-one going on twelve. In his right hand he grips a guitar by the neck. She suspects that he may not actually know how to play it.

He speaks.

"Hey, uh, do you go to the college?"

She speaks.

"No."

He presses on.

"Well, what I really wanted to know is do you like to party?"

She responds.

"No."

Dismayed but too stoned to show it, the young man takes his leave.

"Well, God bless you anyway."

Amanda bids him farewell.

"No."

Boo! You're Old!

2009-06-26T12:42:00.000-07:00

According to a study conducted by Clairol (Clairol does studies?) women reach their happiness peak at age 28.

Huh?

"The age of 28 has been pinpointed as the time in a woman's life their hair looks the best, body shape is at its peak and confidence is at an all-time high. The security of your job, having a steady income, being in a relationship and having strong friendships all help create the perfect point in our lives when everything comes together."

Who are these 28-year-olds and what magic fountain have they been drinking from? Did Clairol conduct this "study" in Romantic Comedy World?

As of press time, I'm 28 years old. At the moment I feel happy and satisfied, but that is due to my current circumstances. I'm doing what I love with people I enjoy. When I'm employed and have something creative to fill my days I feel happier and more productive, but that is not usually the norm.

In another two months I'll be back in New York where I'm usually just killing time between temp jobs. I don't have a boyfriend. I don't see my friends more than once a week (at most.) I live off of catering scraps. I have at least 20 grey hairs. And this is the time when I'm supposed to be at my contentment zenith? Crap. I'm in trouble.

What am I supposed to do if my ensuing years are just a continuous downward spiral into unsatisfaction and wrinkles? Hey Clairol! Did your precious "study" reveal why I shouldn't just slit my wrists right here in this Fajita Grill at this very moment? How do I keep on feeling easy, breezy, and beautiful or whatever the hell your slogan is while staring into the void? Tell me how to save me from myself, crack team of Clairol scientists!

"A little time put aside in hectic schedules for self-pampering and the odd beauty product can help keep you feeling young and looking your best."

Of course! The secret to true happiness lies not in the confidence of knowing yourself or the wisdom of experience. It's fucking shampoo! I've been such a fool. I will amend my life anon. Thank you, generic study of genericness!

Yay!

2009-06-14T17:29:00.000-07:00

I'm tired. I am so tired. I am so very tired and so very, very happy.

I'm in upstate New York in rehearsals for the Sterling Renaissance Faire, and...I'm just happy. Who knew?

When you are an actress and spending most of your time drifting through countless auditions and day-jobs, it becomes easy to forget why you ever decided to act in the first place. The day-to-day can be pretty suffocating. Doing crappy shows depresses the crap out of you even more and makes you question not only your goals in life but the very existence of God Him/Her/Itself.

This of course never happened to me. I heard about it from a friend of mine.

then you get that job that is just...right. Holy crap, it makes a world of difference! You laugh more, the world seems better. Private jokes are formed. There are birthdays nearly everyweek. There is also cake. You miss your cat, but as long as your parents are calling with daily updates about his adorability, you get by.

Unfortunately, you also don't have much access to a wifi signal, so you don't get to blog as much as you'd like. However, you just take it in stride and enjoy the wonderfulness of having wonderful things happen to you.

Good Morrow Unto Ye All! Would You Like To Purchase Some Meat On A Stick?

2009-05-31T20:56:00.000-07:00

Hey, guess what? I actually have a job for the summer! Can you believe it? I'm castable!

I wanted to let you all know now before I get to my housing and discover there's a.) no wifi signal, or b.) a wifi signal that is compatible with every laptop except mine (it has happened before; see: last summer). If that happens, I'm just letting you know in advance: I'm not dead.

This summer finds me in upstate New York at a Renaissance faire (huzzah!), thus checking off #53 on my list of Things I Must Do For Reasons Inexplicable Even To Myself Before I Die. I am playing a character known right now only as "Gypsy". My guess is that she will be sassy.

I'm excited! I will be spending the next three months engaged in improv-based street shows, wearing corsets, and gorging on ham-flavored turkey legs. At last, my dreams are becoming reality.

Hopefully, the energy of performing again will spur me on in my other creative endeavors. I want to write more. I imagine that an entire summer spent at a Renaissance faire (huzzah!) will inspire at least one "I am not even making this up" story per week. At least.

If not, then, well, just know that I am happy, healthy, and full of ham-like turkey meat.

Have a great summer, all you strangers from the future!

X-Men Origin$ (FUCK YEAH!)

2009-05-24T18:38:00.000-07:00

To celebrate Memorial Day and remember the sacrifices made by the men and women of our armed forces, my friend Corrie and I did the obvious thing: went to see X-Men Origins: Wolverine.

Hey, it's appropriate. As it turns out (according to the opening credits montage) Wolverine served in every United States conflict from the Civil War through 'Nam. True story. He stormed the beaches of Normandy and made Hitler his personal bitch. They only reason we haven't found Osama bin Laden yet is because he knows the minute he steps out of his cave, Wolverine will gut him like a fish. Wolverine is not just a veteran. He is the Ultimate Veteran. We honor America by honoring him. He has single-handedly preserved freedom with his own six claws for years. Oh sure, he may technically be "Canadian", but don't doubt it for a second: Wolverine is American because he is America. Love and fear him as you do God, or get the fuck out.

That said, our Ultimate Hero needs a better movie.

It's not "technically" bad. Not really. It's just...kinda...what is the word I'm looking for? No, not that one. What's that word? The one that's the opposite of "good"? Oh, so it is "bad?" Okay, sorry about that. My mistake. This movie is bad.

I'd go on further but the Ambien's starting to kick in, so here's Yami Marik to take us on home:

Good night, and God bless America.

YouTuesday Did One Bicycle Crunch And PUKED IN HER MOUTH

2009-05-19T22:32:00.000-07:00

FUCK YES. For those of you who have never lived in New York, you have no idea how much this video means to me. Not a day goes by where I feel like I haven't been leered at or been the target of a disgusting remark. I have been honked at. I have been rubbed against. I have been subjected to indecencies no woman should ever be subjected to. I think one time a homeless guy masturbated across from me on the subway train. At least I think he did. I didn't want to stare, because I'm a lady.

In short, gentlemen, knock it the fuck off. It makes me so mad I'm actually typing the word "fuck" and I never type "fuck" because, again, I'm a fucking lady.

Fuck!

YouTuesday: It's Any Day You Want It To Be!

2009-05-14T21:08:00.000-07:00

First came Transformers. Then came G.I. Joe. Then came Transformers, again. And now the Bayification of our beloved childhood memories continues. May God help us all.

And here's another one! May God help us all some more.

Amanda Tries To Write The Worst FanFic Ever, or The Last Street Fighter-Related Post Until The Next One

2009-05-02T20:03:00.000-07:00

He guys, I'm back! Missed me? Again? Some more?

I've been away from the blog lately because I've been having a writerly existential crisis of sorts. I love writing, and I'd like to think that I'm good at it, but somehow that just doesn't seem enough.

Don't get me wrong. I enjoy the creative process and the rush of artistic fulfillment...but I wanna be popular!!! I want people to like me, or at least know who I am. That's real power. The power of people!

And I'm frustrated because in the world of internet popularity fanfiction is stealing my thunder. It seems like no matter how hard I try my writing will never be as popular as crazy wish-fulfillment fever dreams scrawled by painfully insecure writers of dubious merit.

But enough about Ayn Rand. Take a look at this steaming literary turd.

Go on. Look at it. Take a good, hard look.

Is it not the most spectacular crap? You actually feel yourself getting dumber as you read it. It is arguably the worst piece of writing ever to fart its way out of anyone's brain. Ever.

And yet...it's popular. Not a lot of people like it, but a lot of people have read it. I mean, a lot a lot. More than have ever stumbled onto this humble little blog.

So, I've come to a decision: I'm going to stop trying to make my writing good. From now on I will dedicate this blog to unnecessary descriptive passages and improperly-used adverbs. I am going to become not just a fanfiction writer, but the ultimate fanfiction writer. You think My Immortal was shit? Wait until you smell my shit!

Let's make this happen!

(The following contains profanity, sexual situations, violence, and canon-rape. VIOWER EXCRETION ADVISD.)

Bring Me 2 Life, Kill Me, Then Bring Me Back 2 Life Again

By xxXxxXtehpainoflifeizpainful666XXxXXxxxXxxX

Chapter 1: Indigo (like “Helena” by Good Charlottte only it’s “Indigo”)

A/N: Dana- fangz 4 dah help (geddit? “fangz!” Cuz I’m goffick!) wif da spellin. u rok gurl but not az much az MCR!!! MCR ROX!!!11!1111 alan- u r da luv of mah mizurabul life cuz u r mah reel life boifrend and not summone I maid up. MCR- fangz (Geddit??) 4 rokking cuz u rok. Prepz- fangz (GEDDIT??!1) 4 nuthin cuz u r all pozers n prepz. FOOK U1111111!1111 MCR ROX!11111!

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX666XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

Hi my name is Indigo Night’fall Crazypants Onomatopoeia Manson. I’m seventeen years old and I’m in my seventh year at Street Fighter School in Japan. I was born in America but then I left because my parents died or something.

I have long raven black hair that comes all the way down to my knees with indigo streaks in it and blue tips at the end. I have pale skin and purple eyes the color of purple gems (A/N:: shez nut wering contackz doze r hur reel eyez so FUQ U!!1). I’m skinny enough that people think I’m anorexic. I’m also curvy in all the right places. Don’t ask me how that works. It just does.

I’m goffick in case you couldn’t tell. I’m studying at Street Fighter School to become a ninja- even though I’m better than all the teachers. Also, I’m a vampire, but I don’t burn up in the sun because of my magic powers. I have magic powers because I’m also a witch.

Today I was wearing my black Hot Topic ninja outfit with a black leather corset and black leather combat boots. I had purple fishnet gloves on my arms with black leather arm cuffs. I was wearing a black leather choker around my neck and 18 earrings in my ears all made of black leather. My finger nails were painted black and then covered in black leather just to be safe.

I don’t wear white foundation because my skin is so pale, but I was wearing black lipstick on my lips and tons of black eyeliner and BLOOD RED eyeshadow.

Suddenly, I turned around and there was……….Ryu Hoshi!

He was wearing a goffick black karate outfit with an MCR logo on the back (A/N: MCR ROX!!!!11111). He was also wearing black eyeliner and had painted his nails black, too. He was also also wearing a red headband from Hot Topic with little black skulls all over it which went great with his BLOOD RED contact lenses which expressed so much of his darkness and depression and sexiness.

He started to say something to me, but then I had to do something so I went away.

(A/N: iz dis AWSUM or iz dis AWWZSUM???)

Chapter 2: Street Fighters will never hurt you

A/N: PREPZ STUP FLAMMING MAH STORREE! im sorree if u dunnut geddit itz becuz ur a prep or a pozer n u shud hav a dokter luk at u. FOOK ALL OF UR MUTHAHS!!!1111111 dana- fangz (C WUT I DID THER??!!1) 4 helpn me wiv da spellin n such. btw hav us sen mah sweateh??/ MCR ROX!!!112345

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX666XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

I was coming back from ninja class when I ran into my best friend Ambrosia. Her name used to be Chun-Li but then she found out that her real parents were vampire-witches killed by M. Bison. When she found out the truth, she changed her name and converted to Satanism just like me. I’m also a Stanist.

“Hey Indigo!” said Ambrosia goffickly (A/N: geddit??? cuz shez goffick1) “I saw Ryu looking at you before class.”

“Yeah so?” I muttered sexily (A/N: geddit??? cuz Ryu iz dah sexor! hez like Gerard Way cept sexaher cept not cuz datz nout pozzubul. an if u don no who dat iz dan u r a pozer-prep so GO TA HELL N FOOKING DIE!!!!111!)

“Do you like him?” she asked all inconsequentially.

“No fucking Way (A/N: lik Gerard!111 OMG I wan 2 be fooking WAYLOL1111!). That is so fucking retarded.” I said all sarcastic-like.

Ambrosia then said “BTW, did you hear about Hecate? She became a fucking prep loser and failed all her classes and got expelled from Street Fighter School. Then Bullrock killed her with a forklift and E. Hunda had sex with her dead body.”

“Mwahaha that is awesome.” (A/N: BTW dana hecate iz u. GIV ME BAK MAH FUKING SWEATER!!1111111!1!1!1!1)

We went into the cafeteria. I got myself a bowl of ramen noodles with blood and poured myself a glass of blood. Suddenly, I turned around and there was………………….Ryu Hoshi!

“Hey Indigo” Ryu said sexily.

“Hey Ryu” I said depressingly.

“Hey guess what?” asked Ryu. “Good Charlotte are having a concert in Tokyo.”

“OMFG I love GC! Almost as much as I love PATC or MCR (A/N: MCR ROX!!!!!!1) but definitely more than I love NIN, MM, BBC, TNT or DMX.”

“So do you wanna go?”

“GASP!” I gasped.

chaptah threve: 1 stup clozer (2 da sex lol!!!!!!!1)

A/N: ALL U FUGGIN PREPZZ I H8 AL OF U Y DU U ALLL XIST U MAK MAH LIF A LOOVIN HEEL!!!!!!!11!1 N STOOP FLAAMIN!!!!!!!11385701591T!1!!!! dana i m sorree i wuz meen 2 u. plz hlp me agin. splellin iz hrd. did i menshon dat mcr rox?

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXX37OOPSIMEANT666XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

On dah nite of dah concort I put on mah blak laze-up bots wif hi hels. Undaneaf dem wer riped red fishnits. Den I poot un a blac ledder mineedres wiv all dis corzett stuf on da bak an fron. I pot on mashing feshnett on mah rms. I strayhtened mah hare an maid it luk al spicky.

I din fink I luuked sexah enuf so I changeded an puut un a blck mehnehskit dat waz ull riped arrund da en an a maching tup wiff red scoolls all ovah it an hi heled buuts dat wer blac. I poot on too pares of skul earins, an to kroses n mah ers. I sprai-panded ma har wiff poorpul.

I tukk dat uff an putt on a blk leader shit dat shooed of mah bewbs an tieneh motching mnskrt dat sed Simple Plan un dah boott. Dat wuzznt sexah enouf so I pot unn a balk levver monodross dat wuz ull ripped on dah ens wit lase onnid. Dere waz sum corzett stoof on de fron. Den I poot on blak feshnits n back heye-heall’d bewts wiff pikshurs uv Billie Joe Armstrong un dem. I poot ma haer al owt arown me sow I luked lik Samara frm de Ring (A/N: if u don’t know who she iz ur a prep so FUK URSELF U FUKIN FUK!) I payntid mah nayls blac nd putt onn TONNSS off bck i-lynerz. Dn Iy pudt owen somm blakk lopstuk. I dinidndn’t ptutut orn farndushonn bahcozz Ey worz pall ennehwehh. Dorrn A slod mo rasds nod dyrnk sam buuld farmm i baddul ned wershed A Nightmare Before Christmas ssa Ee wgr rnnddy ty tm bl plk fpjdwtt.

Chapter 4: Goffick Song Title

A/N: OMG DANA U R DA BEST U RUL!!!!!!!111 prepz u stil sook. MCR U STIL ROK111`111

Ryu picked me up for the concert. He looked real sexah. He took me to his flying car and we flew off to Tokyo for da concert. But then he flew the car into a tree!

“OMG what r you doing Ru?” I asked both angrily and sexily.

We started to french passively. Then we fondled each other nonparticipatively. We took off all our clothes unresponsively. Then Ryu took his boy tool and stuck it in my lady flower. We started to have da sex.

“Omg Ryu. Omg. Omfg.” I said having an orgasm.

“Omg Indigo I luv you. You are da most sexiest girl in da world. You r prettier than Amy Lee. Omg Inigo u make me wanna Hadooken in my pants.” Said Ryu all sextastically.

Suddenly, we heard a noise in da forest.

“WHAT THE SHIT ARE YOU COCKSUCKERS DOING FOR THE LOVE OF FUCK!”

It was……………………………………………………….....Professor Gouken!

Chapter 5: Running out of song titles

A/N: SHOOT THA FOOK OOP U FOOKING PREPZ!11! I r 2 a good writeror. If u dunut lik dah storree iz not mah falt cuz u r DAH PREPPIEST PREP DAT EVAH PREPPING PREPPED! O n dah only reezon gooken cursed waz cuz hiz faborit sho gut conzelled. PREP U!!!!!!11! Dana u r nut a prep u rok. MCR ROX!!!

XXXXXABCDEFGHIJKLMNOPQRSTUVWXYZXXXXX

Goken looked at us all angrily and badly.

“What were u doing having sex in a car in da woods?” He asked in a very angry manner of asking. “This sort of thing could get u expelled from Street Fighter School!”

I started to cry BLOOD RED TEARS OF BLOOD. I looked over at Ryu. He was also crying BLOOD RED TEARS OF BLOOD. The only one in the immediate area not crying BLOOD RED TEARS OF BLOOD waz Goukin but that was because hez not goffick enough (A/N: GED? DIT?).

“Explain yourselves,” said Gookin. “Why would u do such a thing you preposterous underlings?”

“BECAUSE I LOVE HER!” cried Ryu (TEARS OF BLOOD!).

“But I thought u were in love with Ken Masters?” asked Gouk’n. “I heard that you had the sex with him?”

I shooted at Ryu an angry look. “You had the sex with Ken? That fooking prep-poser?”

“It didn’t mean anything,” said Ryu sensitively. “It waz only one or fifteen times. Come on.”

I started to cry BLOOD RED TEARS OF BLOODY BLOOD. “RYU HOSHI YOU BASTARD!” Then I ran away into da forest.

I was all depressed and not in the good goffick way. I tried to slit mah wrists with some twigs, but that didn’t work. Suddenly, it became verrah quiet. All the birds stopped singing. I heard someones high heels coming towards me. I turned around. It was………………………………………………………………………………................................M. Byson!

“Indigo, thine time hath come!” he said evilly.

“No! What do you want? No!” I said sadly.

Then Bisenn gave me a gun. “Thou must taketh the lyfe of Ryu Hoshi!”

“OMFG!”

“Indubitably!” he said darkly. “If thou doth not, then mine own self wilt doth it anywaye and taketh thine owne lyfe as well anon.”

I thought about Ryu. I thought about his goffick black hair and his sexah BLOOD RED eyes and the way he looked like Joel Madden and Gerard Way combined only hotter except not cuz that’s impossible. I thought about da sex we had in the tree. I thought about how I had not put my clothes back on after that. I thought about how cold it was. I thought about how I wished I had eaten more before I left. I thought about Count Chockula. Then I thought about how Beyesun wanted me to kill Ryu or he would kill us both.

That’s when I remembered: I’m a fucking ninja!

I turned to Beesting looking all angry and sexah and goffick at the same time. “Of all the fucking prep-posers I have ever met, u are the preppiest and the poseriest. You’re not even wearing any black! You r evil and must be destroyed! And I am the one to do it!”

He laughed sarcastically. “Thou ludicrous motherfucker! I am madeth of pure evil and cannoth be destroyed by anyone. Not even thou, even though thou art a ninja, a vampire, and a witch. Anon.”

“But I have one thing dat you don’t have!”

“And what’s dat?”

I started to do my Ultra Combo. I screamed my battle cry.

“SHOORYOOKIN!!!!”

Then I shot him with the gun.

“Nooooooooooo!!!!!111!!1!!!!1” Boston started to melt. Then he started to turn to ash. Then he died.

“Indigo! Inigo!” I heard a voice. I turned and there was…………...Ryu Hoshi!

I was so happy to see him I cried BLOOD RED TEARS OF BLOOD. Ryu also cried TEARS OF BLOOD and we started to french again. Then we drank some beers, slit our wrists and smoked some drugs. Then he stuck his thingy in my you-know-what all night long.

(A/N: chapters 6-54 still to come!!!!1! MCR ROX!!!!!!11)

YouTuesday Thinks Happy Thoughts

2009-04-21T22:51:00.000-07:00

I've recently racked up a whole bunch of catering work, which is great. Sure it is. Poverty sucks and I have a little furry son to feed, so I should be glad for all the hours of dream-crushing paid servitude I'll be putting in. I mean, I am glad. Of course I am. If my life feels empty that only leaves more room for all the cool stuff I can buy with all the money I'll be making.

Sigh.

Joel Robinson, what should I do?

Happy thoughts, eh? 'Kay, I'll give it a shot.

Alan Rickman just picked me up in a carriage drawn by four life-size My Little Ponies and we drive to Chinatown Fair and play Super Street Fighter II Turbo for hours and I win every game and Kristen Schaal and I are really good friends and she helped me install a moon-bounce room in my brand new super-awesome 37-bedroom apartment conveniently located next to the Beer Garden and then Adam Guettel calls me up and offers me the title role of his brand new musical version of Wonder Woman for which I'll win a Tony Award and my friends and I will celebrate in Bryant Park with a super-fun all-night sleep-over camp-out with a performance by Flight of the Conchords and marathon of Harry Potter movies and Barack Obama will declare it National Amanda Day and I'll replace Jimmy Fallon on Late Night and FOX NEWS WILL IMPLOOOOOODE!

Holy cow, I think that worked.

Perspective

2009-04-07T20:03:00.001-07:00

Sometimes I feel like no matter how well I do in life there will always be this person doing just a little better than me.

It's not one particular person. Sometimes it's several people at the same time. If I were to create a composite profile, This Person went to one of my schools, got parts in shows I was not cast in and dated the guy I wanted to date. Often and with relish. She was usually blonde and/or leggy.

I found myself irrationally hating This Person. Sometimes I would rise above it, but usually I didn't.

Life goes on, though, and sometimes I will forget about this person. Weeks and months will go by, and life will be sweet and fruitful. I'll exercise semi-regularly, audition with some consistence and repeat my Artist's Way daily affirmations with some actual belief in them. My therapist will tell me I'm handling life well. Days will seem sunnier. My cat will shed less. Life will be joyous during these brief but blessed times.

Then, just as I get cast in a Renaissance faire as a sassy gypsy and feel that I'm at the pinnacle of my creative success, I turn to the computer only to learn that This Person has been cast in a new musical reading with Donna McKechnie, gave birth to my old crush's beautiful twin boys Pan and Geometry, and found a cure for cancer while cleaning behind the bed.

What I'm trying to say is I hate Facebook. Stop throwing other people's achievements in my face!

My Roommate...

2009-04-01T21:44:00.000-07:00

...has a mighty snore.

Seriously, I can here it from the living room.

YouTuesday Is Filled With Animosity.

2009-03-20T21:38:00.000-07:00

I'm typing up this ragey post while drinking an angry glass of Chardonnay because I am feeling rather pissed-offy. I will probably explain more about my RAGE! when I am less full of angry Chardonnay.

I wish I could find a suitable clip to showcase my RAGE!, but even a good-humored glass of Chardonnay at this time would prevent a full investigation of the interwebs. Plus, the rage. Did I mention I had RAGE!?

So, here's a clip featuring the world's most adorable serial killer.

Yes, Blossom. Kill. Kill them all. RAGE!

No

2009-03-11T12:58:00.001-07:00

This, apparently, is a picture from the remake of Absolutely Fabulous, and not a shot of two trust-fund Williamsburg hipsters on their way home from their non-jobs in graphic design.

I am all in favor of giving Kristen Johnson work, but I refuse to support this. You cannot remake perfection. The Office aside, most American translations of awesome English shows don't, well, translate. Very well. At all.

I weep.

YouTuesday Drinks More Caffeine And Stays On Her Meds

2009-03-09T22:02:00.000-07:00

We live in depressing times.

Personally, I've been battling the darkness within me armed with little more than a fistful of Chinatown Fair tokens and a black berry bubble iced tea. My weapons are small, but my will is mighty.

I'd like to think that all of us right now are a little depressed and unhappy, and that kind of warms my heart. No, it doesn't make me happy that people are sad. I didn't mean it like that at all, asshole. What I meant was, we can be all sad...together.

Maria Bamford can explain it better than I can:

So, you're not alone. Everyone's here in the dark. You may not see me, but I'm out here, too. So lets play kick-the-can!

YouTuesday Has Wanker's Cramp (Oh...That Doesn't Look Right)

2009-03-04T18:15:00.000-08:00

These days I'm either incredibly busy or incredibly lazy. That makes it very hard to update.

Sorry about that.

Please enjoy the latest episode of Yugioh Abridged. That makes up for everything.

Coming soon: Street Fighter Begins Returns, the only movie review you will ever need!

Oh, SNAP!

2009-02-27T22:36:00.000-08:00

A few critics have already had their fun with the new Street Fighter movie. The rotton tomatoes rating is about...00%. I know it just opened, but DAMN.

I will see the movie. No. I have to see this movie. It's my destiny. Probably.

And of course: boozing. There will be boozing. There will be boozing and and viewzing.

Mickey Rourke FTW!

2009-02-27T14:12:00.000-08:00

Yes, yes, Sean Penn won the Oscar and he was classy and self-deprecating and topical and whatever. However, imagined how things might have been...

(Please don't play this if you're at work.)

If you can find a clip of an acceptance speech as equally awesome I will pay you in indentured servitude.

(ETA: Just saw the movie tonight. It was so awesome that Rourke has every right to act weird at any and every awards, whether he's nominated or not.)

YouTuesday....Has No Words

2009-02-24T23:20:00.000-08:00

Ganked this from Sid: It needs no introduction. It just is what it is:

(Note: while I was playing this clip to make sure I had embedded right, my "Speak Italian, lesson 1" CD was playing in the background. At the dramatic conclusion of this modern-day choreographic masterpiece, the...let's just call him a "dancer", emerged offscreen with knife and intent to cut or perhaps maybe caress his broken-hearted veins. Apropos to nothing, as the music ending, my Italian teacher sharply commanded "Do NOT hit the landing." True Story.)

YouTuesday Doesn't Think This Is Over. She's Just Getting Started.

2009-02-17T22:44:00.000-08:00

Most people who know me assume that I am excited for the new live-action Street Fighter movie adaptation to the point where I have already scalped a ticket and am living in a tent on 42nd Street outside the AMC 25. To those people I say: you couldn't be more wrong.

Why am I not excited? Because I know better. I've remembered the harsh lessons that Jean-Claude Van Damme has taught, and isn't it always said that those who do not learn from history are doomed to repeat it? I've learned people. I've learned.

I know that this new movie is going to suck. It is going to suck long. It is going to suck big. It is going to suck hard.

You dare question my hard-earned knowledge? Watch these clips from the actual movie that is about to hurl itself, vomit-like, onto unsuspecting audiences nation-wide and tell me if I'm wrong. (Warning: once watched, these clips cannot be un-watched.)

("I want you to send Bison a message: tell him he'll never be as awesome as Raul Julia.")

("No wonder you wear a mask." SNAP, K. Kruek! Burn of the century. You're Dorothy Parker on super pills, you are.)

(I have no idea what is going on in this scene but that didn't stop me from laughing my ass off. "BOMB! EVERYBODY OUT! GO, GO, GO!" That gave me a chuckle.)

So now we have undeniable proof: Street Fighter: The Legend of Chun Li = suck. The only question that remains is how it is going to suck. Awesomely? Horribly? Chewably? I hold little hope that this movie is going to be as giddily bad as the 1994 one. For all it's flaws, that movie had a campy charm stemming from its utter ridiculousness. This screaming bastard-child of a follow-up doesn't even seem to have that. That, dear readers, is sad.

Will I still see it? Of course I will, but there will have to be beer. Dear lord, will there have to be beer.

Amanda Is Too Stressed To Think Of A Proper Title

2009-02-16T20:56:00.000-08:00

I need to get some stress off my chest, because I'm feeling stressed right now. I'm feeling stressed and poor and stressed about being poor.

I'm getting in one catering shift a week, and I have not had much luck with my temp agencies. I really, really, really do not want to start looking for another job, because I'm not very good at keeping them. My track record has been spotty at best. The only reason I've been able to stick with catering for so long was because it required a minimal degree of responsibility. All you have to do is carry a tray and walk around with a seeming sense of purpose. It's cake.

Other things, I'm not so good at.

I'll admit it: I'm scared. A lot of theatres are closing, the future is looking bleak right now, and I am freaking out when I'm not sleeping.

Any suggestions? Donations? At least leave something cute in the comments.