Monthly Archives: February 2009

10 More Days for Tina Fey — Day Two

I’m in a bit of a toilet paper quandry.  For much of my adult life, I have provided my ass with only the finest that money can buy.  After much research and deliberation, I have devotedly purchased and used Charmin for all my toilet needs (and to blow my nose, in a pinch).  I love that Charmin consists of two layers of plush, yet resilient, cloth-like material that, when in contact with the human body, provides support and a barrier between my hands and human excrement.  Grossed out?  Get over it.  We all pee and poop.

But I have since come to realize that using Charmin is like wiping your ass with Al Gore’s bleeding heart.  According to this Greenpeace Guide, my use of Charmin is blasphemous and against all principles of liberal treehuggers everywhere.  Hell, I might as well throw on a fur coat and eat veal stuffed with foie gras while I sit on the throne — that’s how bad Charmin is.

But what do I do?  I requested suggestions from my Facebook friends, asking them for recommendations of green, but soft, alternatives.  EC suggested “moss” or “sushi wrapping algae.”  While quite green (literally), I believe my tendency to develop allergic reactions would lead to quite the disaster should I rub moss on my ass, or ahem, other areas.  Moreover, moss and sushi wrapping algae simply don’t possess the resiliency of a standard Charmin 2-ply, and I will run the risk of small segments of said toilet paper alternative getting lodged in areas that should remain free of traffic, if you know what I mean.  Would you really want to wipe your ass with this?

Moss on Your Ass?

Image from How Stuff Works

Or how about turning this into a wad?

Ass SushiImage from Alibaba

Yeah, I don’t think so either.  Then my cousin-in-law, DG, asked the perfect question:  “How would Tina Fey feel?”  So I googled “tina fey toilet paper.”  Lo and behold, nothing material showed up (except for my post on how I vetted toilet paper more than Johnny Mac vetted Sarah Palin — apologies for the digression and shameless self-promotion).  My guess is that Tina Fey is a green TP shopper, who gets her TP from such liberal havens as Whole Foods or Trader Joes.  So Tina Fey, feel free to ignore my pleas, but when you have a chance, could you please tell me what product gets the honor of touching your booty?  Many thanks in advance.

Discover me, Tina Fey!

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10 More Days for Tina Fey — Day One

As I embark on my brand spankin’ new 10 More Days for Tina Fey campaign, I do so with a heavy heart and a sinking realization that my pleas will be forever fruitless.  If a tree falls in a forest and no one is around, does that tree make a sound?  If a disgruntled attorney writes a script and Tina Fey does not read it, does that script have life?

Alas, I was reinvigorated this morning when I walked to work (sneezing from the pollen) and heard one of my favorite songs of all time.  Those of you who attended the greatest wedding in the history of time will recognize this as the first song played by DJ Ed — Ready or Not by After 7.  (The song before yours truly walked down the aisle, in the words of JM, like Elian Gonzalez crying as he was plucked at gunpoint — it was my mother dammit!).  From LyricWiki:

I’ll give you the Sun, The Rain, The Moon
The Stars and The Mountains
I’ll give you the world
And all that you wish for
And even more
Girl I love you more than you could know
And that’s for sure
I’d climb the highest hill
Cross the widest sea
Nothin could discourage me
And I pray that you will be
Always there for me
Forever more

Chorus:
Ready or not
I’ll give you everything, and more
All that I’ve got–it’s yours
I’ll give you everything
All that you’re looking for

I’ll give you my heart, My soul, My time
My love is a fountain
I will be your earth
And all that you need for
and even more
‘Cause girl I love you more than words can show
My love is pure
I’ll walk a thousand miles
Sail a thousand seas
Nothin will discourage me
And I pray that you will be
Always there for me
Forever more

Repeat Chorus

As I was listening to this song, I realized the depths to which I would travel to work alongside Tina Fey.  Let’s go through them in order:

  • Climb the highest hill?  Sure, I’d climb the highest hill.  Semantically, I think a hill can never be that high, otherwise it’d be considered a mountain; or a volcano.  I frequently traveled in Beverly Hills and Bel Aire during college and after law school.  I may have “climbed” such geographic wonders via car, but I think that counts.  Check.
  • Cross the widest sea?  Well, I can’t really swim, so I’d be happy to do so in a way that protects me from drowning.  I’ve flown quite a bit in my lifetime.  I’m pretty sure I’ve flown across some pretty damn wide seas.  So, check.
  • Walk a thousand miles?  I’m pretty sure I’ve already done this.  I mean, during freshman year of college, I walked over a mile each way to campus from Hedrick Hall.  I ran a 10K during law school.  So, check.
  • Sail a thousand seas?  WikiAnswers tells me that there are only 107 seas in the world.  So Tina, I don’t want our relationship to rest on a lie.  I will not sail a thousand seas for you.

This song, therefore, represents exactly the things I would do (or have done) to work for Tina Fey.  One caveat — Tina, please ignore the gyrating movements and semi-nudity in the video.  I do not view our relationship in that manner.  I won’t make anyone gyrate, unless such gyration is the natural extension of roll-on-the-floor laughter.  I will not be in your presence in a semi-nude state, because I am shy and being partially clothed is something I only did in college with RC dressed me.  Tina Fey — hear my pleas and hear my melodic anthem.

Discover me, Tina Fey!

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10 New Days for Tina Fey — Day Ten

Crap to the crap — I’m on day 10 and I have yet to hear from Tina Fey.  When I was watching the Oscars on Sunday, I was half-hoping that Tina Fey would break from the formality of the Oscars and give me a shout out — something to the effect of, “Alexis Nectar!  You absolutely don’t need to suck it, but send me your script!”  That didn’t happen, and I courageously held back the tears of defeat at AG’s fabulous Oscar party.

Perhaps I should rededicate my efforts to the law?  My sister notified me of the following pending action regarding the “Pull My Finger” application for the iPhone.  Trademark law is pretty awesome — while the issues are of course framed by principles of law and codified regulations and statutes, decisions ultimately come down to an understanding of human thought and nature.  And human thought and nature are what every good writer (and aspiring writer) hopes to grasp competently.  So what is the dispute?

Well, Air-O-Matic makes the iPhone’s “Pull My Finger” application, and newbie iFart Mobile has been using the phrase “pull my finger” in its advertisements.  So is iFart Mobile misappropriating Air-O-Matic’s trademark?  Depends on how you view the phrase “pull my finger.”  As one counsel described:

The phrase “pull my finger,” and derivations thereof, are generally known and widely understood in American society to be a joke or prank regarding flatulence.  The prank begins when the prankster senses the deep stirrings of flatulence.  The prankster then requests that an unsuspecting person pull [his or her] finger.  The prankster extends his index finger to the victim.  As the victim pulls the prankster’s finger, his flatulence erupts so as to suggest a causal relationship between the pulling of the finger and the subsequent expulsion of gas.  In other words, the phrase “pull my finger” is understood to be a description of the act of passing gas.

Air-O-Matic claims that iFart’s use of the “pull my finger” phrase is confusing customers searching for a fart app for their iPhones — that persons searching for the “Pull My Finger” application are being misdirected to the iFart’s application.  Here are some videos explaining the apps:

Okay, first off — can we just discuss the fact that the two companies are named “Air-O-Matic” and “iFart?”  I’m just thinking about the pimply-faced tech geeks who came up with those names, as they beat around names in a fart-filled room while stuffing their faces with flatulence-inducing foods such as raisins and Cheetos.  So can the phrase “pull my finger” be trademarked?  Donald Trump trademarked the common phrase, “You’re fired.”  I took the liberty of checking the USPTO website to see if other terms of bodily excrement have been trademarked (or attempted to be).  “Prairie dogging it” has not been trademarked.  “Turtlehead” has been trademarked for general clothing.  “Dirty Sanchez” has a live trademark (EWW!).

I’m not sure how any of this has to do with Tina Fey — thankfully.  Although I did begin my post with “Crap to the crap,” so I suppose there is a tangential relationship.  Tina Fey, for the record, I promise to never ask you to pull my finger.  Although if you asked me to pull yours, I’d gladly oblige (and would not judge – everybody farts).

Discover me, Tina Fey!

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10 New Days for Tina Fey — Day Nine

You go girl.  I remember the first time I heard those words — it was sometime in junior high, and I was wearing overalls with only one overall hooked, leaving the other overall dangling precariously and knocking people over if I swung around too briskly.  I likely followed up use of “you go girl” with something like “kris kross fo life yo,” and then immediately retired into the library with my other nerd friends for some Algebra and Kool-Aid.

Alas, I must look at the “you go girl” comment in a different light.  Thanks to EC for bringing my attention to the GoGirl.  What is the GoGirl, you ask?  According to the official website, it’s a “female urination device for travel and active women.”  Basically, you attach this silicone funnel to your . . . ahem . . . pee area, and then you can point your piss as you wish.  As a result, the GoGirl enables the active woman to piss standing up, just like her male counterparts (I have to admit I giggled at the use of “counterparts”).  On the GoGirl website, not only can you purchase a device that allows you to fulfill your lifelong dream of getting completely sloshed and pissing all over a frathouse wall, you can also purchase official GoGirl clothing — including a t-shirt, cap, and shorts.  Nothing like sporting the GoGirl so everyone can know that you are not only an active woman, but that you can sign your name in the snow.

Yeah yeah, how does this relate to Tina Fey?  Well, last I checked, Tina Fey is a pretty damn active woman.  And she may be reluctant to purchase and use the GoGirl.  That’s where I come in.  I can give it a test drive.  I can whip out a GoGirl in situations that Tina Fey may face — a filthy NYC bathroom, camping in the Catskills, all-nighters in the writers’ room, avoiding long lines at the NKOTB reunion tour — all situations in which a GoGirl just might be the thing that saves a woman from a UTI.  Eww.  I grossed myself out.  Savor that devotion.

Discover me, Tina Fey!

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10 New Days for Tina Fey — Day Eight

One of the greatest things about 30 Rock is that Tina Fey and her staff have essentially cursed on television, albeit in a backdoor sort of way.  By inventing “words” and speaking such words at comedically opportune times during the show, one can easily deduce that certain words mean “shit” or “fuck.”

Speaking of saying things on television that you shouldn’t say, check out this video:

So people are allergic to penis and upset when airlines serve penis?  I mean, let’s examine this in a completely literal way.  What would you do if your friendly flight attendant decided to give you a nice bag of salted penis?  Or, if you’re on an airline that splurges on such things, how about some honey-roasted penis?  Would you be pissed if they served you penis in shells, forcing you to unpeel your own penis?

I was once on a Southwest flight where, during takeoff, with the plane pointed upwards, the flight attendants sent snack bags down the aisle.  Imagine sitting in the aisle and reaching down to grab a bag of penis for yourself, and a couple bags of penis for your aislemates?

Next time I’m on a flight, I just might ask my flight attendant for an extra bag of penis.  If she doesn’t laugh, I may ask for a bag of penis for my hubby too.  Hell, why not just ask for the flight attendant to distribute penis all over the plane!

So Tina Fey?  Next time you want to say penis on the air, say peanuts instead.  They’re both nutty.  They’re both uniquely shaped.  And both can provoke allergies.

Discover me, Tina Fey!

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10 New Days for Tina Fey — Day Seven

I shall devote this day seven of my 10 New Days for Tina Fey series to all that is love — because nothing says love like Valentine’s Day and Friday the 13th.

Speaking of Valentine’s Day, I am a woman who believes that Valentine’s Day was invented through a conspiracy between Hallmark, Dom Perignon, and Zagat (or the ancient equivalent).  I don’t know when Valentine’s Day started, but I imagine that the CEOs of the aforementioned companies sat around a big round table and concocted a holiday that would force reluctant men all over the world into spending exorbitant amounts of money for flowers, chocolate, alcohol, cards, and food.  In return, men receive sexy time, so I guess you could argue that they get the benefit of the bargain, but you could also argue that Valentine’s Day is really a day for men to pretend that they are johns and for women to pretend that they are prostitutes.

I must admit, however, that when I was waitressing during law school, I LOVED Valentine’s Day.  It was the one day of the year where I could easily manipulate a man to order that extra bottle of wine or champagne, and where the male would have to give me good tips to show exactly how wonderful of a man he was.  I worked at a fine dessert restaurant, so PDA was basically the norm on Valentine’s Day.  Just imagine how difficult it was for me to contain my laughter as I watched people attempt to eat their meals and desserts while continuing to hold hands across the table.  It can work if one person is a lefty and another is a righty, but most of the time, I watched a poor dude fumbling around with his food as he attempted to work the fork in his left hand into his food, and then essentially stab himself in the face as he made the pathetic attempt at directing the melted chocolate down his throat.  And during this entire escapade, the poor man also had to speak sweet nothings to the woman whose hand he was holding.  Hell, you might as well clip off the dude’s testicles and place them in his dominant hand, because that was kind of what it looked like.

Don’t get me wrong.  I am a romantic.  Dirty Dancing is the best movie in the history of time, and the Notebook comes in a close second.  But Valentine’s Day?  Not for me.  (Cue the happiness from my hubby!)

How does this relate to Tina Fey?  Well, despite my aversion to the commercialization of Valentine’s Day, if Tina Fey wanted me to prove my devotion to my cause by tying my right hand behind my back and forcing me to eat with my left hand, I’ll do it.  I’ll even allow myself to be filmed attempting to grab escargot with a pair of chopsticks.  Anything to work for Tina Fey.

Discover me, Tina Fey!

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10 New Days for Tina Fey — Day Six

First off, before I begin my post in earnest, can I just say that the high today in DC is supposed to be 71???  I swear, I almost pooped my pants in excitement when I walked outside and felt the warmth of the sun beating down upon my face.  Nothing like a little excrement to reflect true happiness.

Speaking of walking outside, I exited the Metro a stop early today just so I could enjoy the weather for just a little longer.  As I was walking, I was abruptly stopped by quite the lengthy motorcade.  At my count, there were 6 motorcycle cops (with those little side baskets — but they were empty, to the relief of the immasculated cops who have to sit in them), followed by two limos, and then a few black SUVs holding many men carrying gigantic weapons.

Holy crap!  I saw Obama!  It’s been a few weeks since I last saw Obama as he walked down Penn Ave hand-in-hand with his wife.  But today, I waved hello again to the President, who is doing his best at undoing the mistakes of the last eight years.  Ok ok, to be perfectly frank, the man I saw in the limo was what appeared to be an old white man with bone-white hair.  But I’m pretty sure it was Obama.  Because if I was working his security detail, I’d totally disguise him as an old white man with bone-white hair.

But this whole disguise thing made me think about how Tina Fey is able to travel to and from the 30 Rock studios?  I read somewhere that she drives a Lexus SUV hybrid (I am not a stalker), so I’m assuming maybe she attempts to travel incognito?  Most celebrities hide themselves rather poorly by donning some type of hat and some sunglasses.  I imagine that Tina Fey probably does the same thing — although during the winter, sunglasses wouldn’t exactly make sense, so perhaps what she does is that she doesn’t wear glasses because she normally wears glasses and Tina Fey sans glasses would throw people off as to whether she was actually Tina Fey, but then again, without glasses, she may be quite the road threat.  I am rambling.  The point is, next time I’m in Manhattan or Queens, and I see an SUV with a lone female driving and donning a strange looking hat, with no glasses, and weaving erratically, I will follow said vehicle and create my own motorcade of two until the driver of said vehicle exits, after which I will exit and happen to “accidentally” run into the driver and hand her my script.

Discover me, Tina Fey!

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