LaurieWrites

D Train

Riding the D Train to Coney Island, a man screamed the whole way to his friends, who said not one word the whole time. Here's a small segment, with apologies for any editorial errors as my memory is pretty good for stuff like this but not at all perfect.

"You need EDUCATION, motherfucker. You need to educate yourself! Do you hear me? If you're three quarters, one half, one quarter Native American, you get to go to school for free! To a black institution for free! YOU can go for free! Educate yourself. Learn about this shit! Have you seen Roots? HAVE YOU SEEN ROOTS? Do you know what that shit is about? There is no perfect gene, man. The Jews weren't the only people who suffered. Shit. Learn something. Educate yourself. That's what the Internet is for, brother!

You educate yourself, the sky's the limit. Shit. My sister has a degree and she makes $100,000 a year. The sky is the motherfucking LIMIT. My brother has a degree in architectural technology and he makes $40k a year. THE SKY IS THE LIMIT.

I am the son of Allah, the seventh (edit: something, I have no idea what it was), the new world ORDER, motherfucker."

And then he got off the train. The photo below is not of him.

D Train Drawing

Pumpkin Party

Dan: I have no reason to blog.
Me: Everyone has a reason to blog.
Lauren: I just don't know why anyone would care about what I have to say. Like maybe three people?
Me: That works for me.
Dan: Like what do you blog about? Starbucks?
Me: Why in the hell would I blog about Starbucks? Oh...wait, now the pumpkin spice latte, THAT I've blogged about.
Dan: See, blogging about Starbucks. I can't blog.

I'd actually been thinking that it was time to blog about Starbucks again, because I had the best such latte I've  ever had the other day. EVER. And while driving along and sucking it down like I do, I may have spontaneously said aloud "It's like a party in my mouth." Not that I'd ever tell him that.

I need to have a wedding now, with anyone.

The answer is yes, and oh my God, I DO.

I'll take the tulle princess dress. In black.

I hope you're doing better than I am.

I'm hanging on by a thread.

But can you steal their flair?

This post is standing between me and brunch, but I care enough to bring you, via Tracey, Disaffected!

If you've worked in a retail establishment anytime in the past ten years, in particular, you may want to check this out. The time I've done in a couple big-box bookstores (that start with "B", coincidentally...) has given me a certain level of compassion for the slack-jawed service I've grown accustomed to in recent years...because I've read the training manual, as it were, and it is not compelling. (Let's not even discuss the videos. I'd rather be stuck in front of the acid trip that is Boobah for 48 hours with Yanni in the background than watch one more single Borders training video. Fuckers.) I've also been subject to the bag checks upon leaving the store, and the soul-deadening "team meetings", wherein you are threatened with demerits if you don't ask people for their email addresses, and none of this, by the way, impacts your seven bucks an hour at all.

But all that's behind me now, thank God. Now I can drink my coffee anywhere in the store I damned well please, and also read for free in the cafe when I feel like it, and don't think I don't. They owe me a lifetime Oprah subscription, at least. But I still straighten books compulsively, while repressing my need to alphabetize, and correct crooked sales stickers. It's been a long road, that's for sure - but it's a much better view from this side of the counter, I have to admit.

(And just go to her links, people - they're always awesome, and just like what I'd try to share with you if I wasn't so damned lazy lately!)

Funny Stuff to Start Your Week Off Right

Working really puts a crimp in several of my favorite activities, including my flickr problem habit. Just knowing that the photobooth clusters exist is reason enough to dedicate more time I don't have to looking at pictures of people I don't know. I need money to finance these little hobbies, though, so that should help me focus. A little.

Matthew's at it again over at Defective Yeti, and like I said the other day (I at least waited a couple of days, really...) he's just a funny guy. His recent audiovisual report on the overfriendliness of bank machines was just the laugh I needed after the Emmy's tonight. No Jason Bateman? Are they kidding me? Kiefer Sutherland beating Martin Sheen? What?  The West Wing was one of the best shows ever, and although I know better than to expect anything (and really, why would I?) from a Hollywood awards show, still...Lisa Moraes from the Washington Post blogged the show, and caught some of the funnier and more compelling quotes from the sidelines (sounds like she's in California.) This is my favorite:

"Female reporter to Barry Manilow: "They say music is the soundtrack of your life. What song.. do you look back at to remind you of tonight?"

Manilow: "Don't Give Up" by Peter Gabriel. (Answer: "Don't Give Up" by Peter Gabriel).

Earlier, a female reporter to Jeremy Irons: "What is the best advice anyone ever gave you?"

Irons: "Soldier on."

Irons looks at female reporter who somehow looks even more vacant than usual.

Irons: "Do you understand what I mean?"

Reporter: "Not at all."

I try to stay away from Perez Hilton, because it makes me feel like I need a shower after I read it, but I have to admit that this comment about the newest Britney Spears photo made me smile:

"SE VE BONITAAA AUNQUE PARESE DE BABY DOLL SU VESTIDITO, PERO EN SI ESTA BONITA, YA LA VEO MAS SONRIENTE, ALTO TRAMA ESTA MUCHACHITA, ME GUSTA SU SOMBRERO"

He loves her cowboy hat, people! Leave her the hell alone!

And lastly, another theft from Tracey. They've taken down the Steven Seagall page that she links to in the middle (he's got a new cd out, don'tcha know) but the Armor of God pjs are just what every good little soldier should have to start out the school year, and bacon bars - well, there you have those.

In the Photobooth

I love the Mac store. It's the only place I can get my Photobooth action on. I went in today to reacquaint myself with iLife before the semester starts, and it was a bad idea. Although it was incredibly entertaining, it's going to cost me several thousand dollars to recement this whole relationship, and who has that? I need a fundraiser, stat.

Anyway, on to the pictures. The first one is going on the cover of my cd, no question :

And now, for my second favorite. OMG, I'm glowing! I'm glowing!

This one is funny, and it's subtitled, watching for the overzealous Mac Store boy to come and kick me out, 'cause it's almost closin' time. He was studiously shutting down laptops all around me, but hey, I had five whole minutes!

I love the glow effect. I need it in real life, seriously. Photobooth RULES. (they just need more effects! More! More!)

For a couple others in the series, see here.

Just for a moment. Just for an hour.

Song of the day - "Just to be Close to You", Lionel Richie. Why? WE-he-hell, hold on a minute, hot stuff. That is called a setup. Or foreshadowing. Or something...

Really, why?  Okay, so I'm currently in the Los Angeles airport (which is really sort of dumpy, much to my surprise) and I'm not ashamed to admit that I was all about seeing Brangelina or Jessica Simpson while I was here. Can't help it. Years of a weekly smack habit called People magazine (and now the Website too. God. I have no shot at being a productive citizen ANY MORE. It's OVER.) have bred a benign interest in the famous, the silly, the talented, and the talentless that I can only defend because I read a lot of "smart people stuff" too that makes me have to think and ponder and analyze something way beyond whether or not Tom Cruise has locked his daughter up in a cage. We all need breaks, and People is my thing (one of them, anyway. You really don't want to know how many there actually are, but I'm sure you can imagine.) 

I haven't given up hope on the Brangelina or Jessica sighting, for sure, but I will tell you one thing that almost surpasses that possibility: I saw Lionel Richie! I was looking around for some wireless and some food, in that order, because I'm a cracked out internet junkie with a deep and abiding problem. It's a good thing I'm busying my hands with this madness because I guess otherwise I'd really be at my highest weight ever at this point. (not yet, thank God. There's still hope, and as long as I can measure it in ounces I'm going to.)

Sorry, digression. So yeah, I'm in LAX, like People always calls it - i.e., "Mary Kate Olsen fuels up with a mango and "coke" (get it? Get their smooth insinuations and friendly yet deadly patter? Oh yeah, it's how Star Tracks rolls, totally) smoothie as she waifs her way through LAX after a red-eye from NYC." And I was walking along, and damned if there wasn't Li-o-NEL, right there. Of course I'm fresh off my Jazzfest high where he was the headliner, and have long since outed myself as a fan of both his AND the Commodores. I've even forgiven him partially for "Ballerina Girl" at this point (although never "Say You, Say Me," because that stupid fast bridge at the end is so lame and the lyrics so ridiculous that I can't bear to hear it, even if it means turning off Delilah.)

I unfortunately missed my chance at paparazzi-dom (like I'd need another method of being PART OF THE PROBLEM. Really.) because I haven't slept in a long time and I was kind of disoriented, so my reaction time was bad. I'd just gotten off a long flight where the Very Important Airplane Designer next to me used his laptop the whole time and kept knocking into me. He didn't do it hard, just enough to be annoying after the tenth time, and when it got up in the hundreds, blah. He had no "using the computer in the center seat" skills, and five hours of that plus no sleep just isn't good. I did make an initial grab for the camera bag, but I was too slow, and Lionel had already passed me. A photo of his back was within the realm of possibility, but that seemed a little pathetic even to me, and standing as I was in the middle of the concourse, I knew that in my current bedraggled state I would not just look like but would indeed BE Crazy Camera Lady. I'm not trying to get this camera yanked on my first day in California. I could be a plant for the Enquirer for all they know.

So congratulate me - or feel sorry for me that I care a little bit, pick your poison - that I saw an interesting-to-me famous person in my first hour on the west coast. I imagine I'll be geeking out quite a bit more than maybe even is usual, so I'm not apologizing in advance, even though I probably should.

Watch the couch, dude.

Free Katie

He lost me when he wrestled Oprah. Not that she couldn't clean up the floor with him. Wow. Maverick, what happened?

Mr. Wrong

Mr. Wrong is quite possibly one of the dumbest films I've ever seen.

And it also made me laugh such that I assume most of the hotel could hear me. Ellen DeGeneres plays straight with Bill Pullman as Mr. Wrong. I caught it accidentally on HBO, and was cursing the plans I'd made, which made me miss what I'm sure is a completely ridiculous ending.

I'm a huge Ellen fan, so this is a bonus. I give major props to someone who can make a ton of money having what appears to be a massively good time. Sign me up. The flick is worth it entirely for the scene where he takes her to "do something fun", and it turns out to be stealing beer from a convenience store, aginst her will.

Completely ridiculous. I'm sure it's available at some video store for a pittance, and completely intend to pick it up. If you're feeling a little down, I think you really need to watch Mr. Wrong, with a Quick Change chaser.

That said, my favorite dumb and hilarious movies of all time:

What About Bob (A family favorite. My ex-boyfriend didn't understand why I liked this movie. In fact, he tried to debate its artistic merit. I spent nine more months figuring out that this was not a good match.)

The Great Outdoors

Austin Powers' the Spy Who Shagged Me

Quick Change

Pee Wee's Big Adventure (I laugh until I cry, everytime, and generally do not get along with people who don't enjoy this film.)

National Lampoon's Christmas Vacation. Perfection.

Planes, Trains and Automobiles. LOVE this movie.

Son in Law (this is one of the worst movies ever but worth it for Pauly Shore with the grandpa: "Can I PLEASE whittle wood with you?" and "CHICKENS? I LOVE CHICKENS?") Pauly Shore is just terrible.

Napoleon Dynamite ("Tina, come get some ham!")

That is all. I'm going to go home and watch a ridiculous movie. I think that's about all my brain can handle!