Sunday, October 12, 2014

Short Post and a Song #88: He has a point.

101 Danmations: You really want to see Gone Girl?

Me: Yeah.

The Dancredible Hulk: My client told me Ben Affleck just acts like Ben Affleck and doesn't fit the character from the book at all.

Me: Yeah, I would have probably cast Bradley Cooper.

Yellow Danmarine: Is that the guy from Inception?

Me: No ... why do you always ask if every actor I mention was in Inception?

Danleberry Finn: Hey, there are like five guys of the same generation of actors in one movie. Whenever you mention a random actor, there's a good chance he was in Inception.


"Little Bird" by The White Stripes

I was into the album "Elephant" by The White Stripes in a big way back in high school, but lately I've found that I like their older album "De Stijl" even better. It's just got a great bluesy feel to it and also has the magical power of making me about twice as productive whenever I listen to it while writing.

Thursday, October 9, 2014

Sneezing on the Subway

It is rare when I sneeze that I sneeze only once. I usually have to sneeze ten or twelve times before that infernal tingling in my nose finally ceases.

Sometimes this avalanche of sneezes possesses me on the subway or train. When it does, this is generally what happens:

Me: (Sneeze)

Stranger: God bless you.

Me: (Sneeze)

Stranger: God bless you.

Me: (Sneeze)

Stranger: (Glare) Bless you.

Me: (Sneeze)

Stranger: YOU DON'T DESERVE GOD'S BLESSINGS, YOU SNEEZING BITCH! YOU GO TO HELL! (Rips shirt off in a mindless rage and runs off to another car, never to be seen again)

I might be exaggerating slightly, but you get the idea.

Sunday, October 5, 2014

Short Post and a Song #87: FIRE. AND BALLS.

I saw this advertisement on the train the other day and it gave me a chuckle: 

I had an idea to improve the advertisement and thought I'd share it with you all:


"I Got" by Young the Giant

Like so many Young the Giant songs, most of this song's lyrics don't really make sense. But I can't help loving the refrain: "I got buried/No, it won't be long/Before I rise in song". As someone who's been through her share of depression, it's a very comforting thought.

Tuesday, September 30, 2014

Dear Chef Boyardick,

A few nights ago I stopped by the deli, as I often do, for two bottles of SmartWater on my way home from work. You stood ahead of me at the cash register put your items down on the counter even though the guy ahead of you hadn't finished paying. 

These items consisted of a bottle of Poland Spring water, a sandwich, and three cans of Chef Boyardee.

The guy in front of you quickly grabbed his change and left, then you looked the cashier over as he ran up the items on the counter. "I've seen you stocking the shelves and sweeping," you said. "Now you're behind the register? What kind of sense does that make?"

The cashier, who perhaps didn't have the best grasp on the English language, didn't respond. The cashier took an extra second perhaps in ringing you up, and you were not having it. 

"Just put the stuff in the bag; it's not that big a deal," you snapped.

Another cashier swooped in and began handling your order. 

While this man rang you up, you looked at me and the two bottles in my arms. "Does that stuff work?" you asked, friendly and cordial, as though you hadn't just potentially created a well of insecurity in this poor man who was probably excited to start his first day at the cashier after years of sweeping and stocking from which he will never really recover.

"What?" I asked. "You mean SmartWater?"


"I don't know ... it tastes better."

You launched into a story about some show you'd seen where bottled water manufacturers filled water bottles of different brands with a garden hose.

"Well the pipes are rusty in my building, so," I began.

But as soon as the second cashier bagged your items, you were out the door, rushing toward the Pastapalooza you clearly had planned when you got home.

Since you left before I could tell you, I thought I'd leave this on the big old Internet in case you might ever see it: 

You, sir, are an Asshole with a capital "A".

Sunday, September 28, 2014

Short Post and a Song #86: So you're only supposed to call your friends bitches, I guess?

A few days ago I was on a very crowded subway train. To the left was a sardine-can clusterfuck of people, while to the right there was plenty of free space. 

One woman couldn't take it. She tapped another woman on the shoulder and said, "Could you please move down? There's space down there."

The second woman blinked. "But there are people next to me. I can't just move."

"You selfish bitch!" the first woman exclaimed.

As I left the train, I could hear the second woman muttering to the first, "You can't just call someone a bitch who you don't know..."


"Glamorous Indie Rock & Roll" by The Killers

This song is an old friend of mine. It's not my favorite song by The Killers, but for some reason whatever I'm writing seems to come out easier when I'm listening to "Glamorous Indie Rock & Roll".

Thursday, September 25, 2014

How Paper Beats Rock

I drew this garbage fest of a drawing a few days ago. I thought I should probably redraw it if I was going to even think of posting it on the blog. You can't even tell the rock is supposed to be crying; the tears just make him look like a pizza. He kind of looked like a pizza to begin with. Definitely never like a rock.

But despite its shittiness, this drawing still makes me laugh. So I thought I'd post it in case it might make you laugh, too.

A more substantial post will be coming at you next week. I know I've said that before, but I've actually already written it, so that shit is locked down. 

(And no, Sarah, it's not my writing process post.)

Sunday, September 21, 2014

Short Post and a Song #85: Dear Actresses of the World,

I'm very sorry that your industry is full of executives who routinely tell women in their thirties that they have too many wrinkles. But please, please don't get plastic surgery on your face. Your face is your job--you use it to convey emotions. And that doesn't work so well when certain parts of your face don't move. 

Don't sacrifice being good at what you do for bastards who have worked in Hollywood too long to even remember what real people look like.


"We Intertwined" by The Hush Sound

For reasons I can't quite articulate, I've been obsessed with this song for weeks. I couldn't even tell you how many times I've listened to it. 

The thing is, objectively, I don't like this song. The lead singer's voice is a little too whiny and Fall-Out-Boyian for me. And according to CapDan Crunch, the song has too much of a "me too" sound to it, like he's heard it somewhere before.

But I still can't help but adore this song's lyrics, drums, light beat (especially the part around 2:15 when the guitar just sneaks in with a sweet little solo). 

So which is it, Velocininjas? Is this song actually decent, or after two years of writing about music has my taste devolved back to falling in love with Panic at the Disco and All-American Rejects clones?