Monthly Archives: March 2009

10 Spankin’ New Days for Tina Fey — Day Two

I have a dilemma.  This weekend is probably the best weekend of the year to view the wonder that is the DC Cherry Blossom festival.  For those of you who are not in the know, DC procured cherry blossoms from Japan sometime back in the day, planted them all around the Tidal Basin, and as a result, has drawn in thousands of local and foreign tourists every spring to watch the cherry blossoms bloom.  The blossoms themselves are quite pretty — pink, light, and fluffy petals that flap in the wind.

Alas, my dilemma is this:  I am now at the time of year in which my allergies have fully consumed my physical spirit.  Now is when the drugs’ main function is to ensure that I can participate in daily activities such as work, showering, and eating.  So, immersing myself in a forest of allergens may not exactly be the brightest thing to do, should I desire to remain awake the evening of and day after such excursion.

I’ve been thinking of ways to combat the allergens — e.g., double-dosing on my drugs.  Perhaps, however, the best way to deal with the allergens is to create my own bubble.  Like a young Jake Gyllenhaal in that Boy in the Bubble movie, I shall create my own mobile isolation chamber.  All I need are a good pair of goggles to prevent the aggravation of my demonic eyes, and a nice face mask to prevent the sinuses from flaring up.  I’ve looked it up, and there are goggle/face mask combos, but they appear to constitute military gear, and wearing such military gear in the nation’s capitol would not make me the sharpest tool in the shed, if you know what I mean.  However, I could wear a simple pair of goggles and face mask from Target.  To the average person, I’d either look like I am a carpenter, or being Taiwanese, I will probably look like I have SARS.  The hubby does not suffer from allergies, so he will either look like the carpenter’s husband, or the SARS patient’s chaperone.  We’ll be armed with our fancy schmancy camera, so if he takes pictures of me holding both hands up with peace signs, that will further perpetuate my Asian SARS patient costume, thereby also creating the concurrent benefit of people staying away from us, allowing us to roam the festival in peace.

So Tina Fey, if you happen to be in DC this weekend at the cherry blossom festival, look out for me.  I’ll be hard to miss.  I’ll be sure to bring along a copy of my 30 Rock spec script.  And if I see you first, I’ll come running for you to give you my script.  Just wanted to give you a heads up so you can warn Alice and Jeff about the potential masked/goggled amateur writer who may accost you and your family at an uncomfortably quick pace.  And hell, if you agree to read my script, I’ll even have my hubby take a picture of the four of us.  Years from now, when your memory inevitably rewrites history, you can say that you stood with a SARS patient and survived.

Discover me, Tina Fey!


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10 Spankin’ New Days For Tina Fey — Day One

You ever wonder why it is that people say something is “spankin’ new?”  I mean, it’s obviously not literal, since you can’t spank something to the point in which time is reversed and the object of the spanking suddenly becomes brand new.  I suppose, however, if you are spanking a rump, you could theoretically spank it the point in which the epidermis peels off, after which you technically are spanking a “new” outer layer of flesh.  Ew.

Speaking of spankin’ new, my friend TG posted some of her favorite movies on Facebook (aka Internet crack), one of which was “Something New,” starring the incredibly handsome (and Australian) Simon Baker.  In defense of the movie’s irresistible qualities, TG mentioned a scene in which Baker kisses Sanaa Lathan in the rain outside, then proceeds to take her into her home and kisses her again despite Lathan’s request that Baker leave.  In TG’s words, that really was “the hotness!”

But this got me thinking about how the hotness of a scene like this really is in the eyes of the beholder.  Allow me to explain.  Below is picture of Simon Baker.

Simon "the Hotness" Baker

Image from Livejournal

Now, for those who’ve seen the movie, Baker plays a landscape architect.  Take a look at the picture below, which is what I typically imagine when I think of landscapers.


Image from Flickr

What is my point here?  Well, the aforementioned scene of a man kissing a woman in the rain, and then continuing to kiss said woman in her home after she asks you to leave — depending on who the man is, it’s either “the hotness” or just plain sexual assault.  And that can be said in a number of situations.  In college, I remember my girlfriends and I would go this 18+ club, as none of us had fake IDs.  The male clientele at this club was quite varied, from 18-year old frat boys (Sigma Pi, What a Guy!) to 40-year old nasties.  In any event, there was  an inverse relationship between a man’s hotness and whether that man’s actions were considered “flirting” or “sexual assault.”  For the nasties, a simple leer from across the entire expanse of the dance floor could lead to us seeking assistance from club security.  But if you were a hottie, go ahead and do whatever you want, honey.

This has me thinking — does the same inverse relationship exist for comedians?  For someone like Tina Fey, whose career has supplied her with a wealth of goodwill, does she garner laughs simply by opening her mouth?  And what about yours truly, being a self-described amateur comedian, am I the equivalent of the 40-year old nasty in the middle of a crowded college dance floor leering at girls who are younger than my 3 kids with 3 different baby mamas?  I have to think that there must be some middle ground in which I reside.  Perhaps I’m the comedic equivalent of the 30-year old, moderately attractive and professionally successful person, who did not realize that said club attracted 18-year old college kids?  Alas, accurate assessment of my own comedic abilities may not itself be an ability I possess.  But if Tina Fey loves my script, I’d probably run streaking across town screaming, “I’m funny!  I’m really funny!”

Discover me, Tina Fey!


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10 More Days for Tina Fey — Day Ten

The other day, I saw a commercial for a Web site,  At first glance, it appeared to me that the commercial was simply part of a repeat SNL episode.  I was fully expecting to see perhaps another rerun of the Mom Jeans skit by Tina Fey, or maybe Justin’s impersonation of Jessica Simpson.

Upon further investigation, I realized that this site is totally legit — legit in the sense that the site exists.  According to the Web site, is a “Dating Site for Singles Who Enjoy Being Single.”  Give it up for the appropriate use of “who” in that tagline!  On the site, there are multiple options for locating the booty.  There are “quick search” for booty, “invite booty,” “rate booty,” and “top ten” booty search options.  You can also create your own “bootycall list” complete with “current booty,” “pending booty” and “online booty.”

I took the liberty of running a quick and expansive booty search, entering both searches of men seeking women and women seeking men, with ages from 18-99 (no need to discriminate against young or old booty!).  Boy, were the results interesting!.  The men appeared as I thought they would — kind of gross and creepy in a I hope my mother is not looking over my shoulder as I check out this Web site.  Similarly, the women also appeared as I thought they would — extremely slutty and whorish in a I hope my mother is not looking over my shoulder and wondering if I have shamed my family name for the last time.

In the Web site’s “terms and conditions,” the company is quick to state that the site is “NOT an adult site and does NOT contain pornographic material.” . . . Gee, what would give you that impression?  As I continued to investigate this Web site, I began to wonder about a couple of things.

First, I’m inclined to believe that a good 90% or so of the bootycall members (including both active and nonactive hunters of booty) are men.  Now if most of these men aren’t gay, then I suppose the Web site has a bit of a problem with keeping its members satisfied, so to speak.  Of course, I suppose you could say that the female booty hunters simply benefit from this arrangement, as the Web site offers  a virtual buffet of male anatomy to choose from.  And I guess this isn’t different from many of the clubs and bars I went to in college and law school — as these consisted largely of groups of women who had no intention of giving up the booty, along with large hoards of men who were on the hunt for booty, armed with vodka and cranberry as ammo.

Second, how is this Web site different from Craigslist?  Aside from the obvious in that Craigslist provides a valuable service for the masses (e.g. “free crappy sofa!” and “who wants my CD cases?”), and that the Craigslist Web site has far simpler graphics than that of onlinebootycall, Craigslist does have a bit of a reputation for being used as an online marketplace for booty calls (and paid booty calls, if you know what I mean).  Speaking of which, if you are indeed trying to sell your booty on Craigslist, you’re not really tricking the authorities (haha at use of trick) when your post reads something like, “Will do ANYTHING for 50 roses.”

I digress.  Anyways, this post has absolutely nothing to do with Tina Fey and 30 Rock.  In fact, any purported link is so tenuous that I can’t even attempt to draw a connection as it would be transparently pathetic and strained.  So I won’t try to say something like, “Tina, you should place this Web site on the blocked list to prevent Alice from stumbling upon it.”  Or, “Tina, you and the hubby should visit this site for the pure entertainment value.”  I won’t do anything like that.  Because that’s pathetic, and since I’m on day 10 of my 10 More Days for Tina Fey series, pathetic — I am not.

Discover me, Tina Fey!

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10 More Days for Tina Fey — Day Nine

Last season, I was obsessed with little David Archuleta.  This year, along with my “work for Tina Fey obsession,” I am now transfixed upon Kris Allen.  For those who know me, you know that I unapologetically adore pop music.  And when I say pop music, I mean music that consists of a simple melody and contains at least one of the following words in the chorus:  “love” or “crazy (or if a ballad, “cry,” “tears,” or “without” /s “you”).  Even better if it’s a song that begins a capella, with the gradual introduction of a soft-toned drum beat, and finally the introduction of the rest of the band as the singer reaches vocal crescendo.  Think Leona Lewis’s Bleeding Love, Mandy Moore’s Cry, or O’Town’s All or Nothing.

So while this year’s field of AI finalists may be, as a whole, the most vocally talented in the show’s history, I have found only a few to be worthy of my pop heart. There’s Danny Gokey and his pull at the heart strings story of true love.  There’s Anoop Dawg, whose voice is built for a Boyz II Men revival, and there’s Matt Giraud, who does his best every week to imitate Justin Timberlake at the piano.

But out of them all, my pop heart belongs to Kris Allen.  Last night, Kris performed a beautifully gentle rendition of Garth Brooks’ To Make You Feel My Love.  What a wonderful choice of song.  It was as if Kris looked into the minds of all sappy women in America, realized that they all watched the movie, Hope Floats, and figured out that singing the song from Hope Floats would generate an unprecedented response fueled by sappy memories and overflowing estrogen.

After last night’s performance, I’m feeling like dreams can come true.  And that is the real reason why I heart pop music.  Pop music is reliable.  Whether you’re hopeful, downtrodden, or emotionally extinguished, there’s a song for you.  I’m now on day nine in my 10 More Days for Tina Fey series, and I have not heard from the Queen Bee of comedy herself.  That’s okay.  I’ve got Kris Allen on repeat, and I’ve got my pop.  Tina, when you’re ready, my script is waiting for you.

Discover me, Tina Fey!

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10 More Days for Tina Fey — Day Eight

Washington, D.C. is a city of monuments.  As the country further spirals downward into recession, the federal government will have to make tough decisions as to how to spend precious funding.  Well, the city of monuments will soon be implementing a new sign system to the tune of $2.2 million.  Let me write that out with all the zeros:  $2,200,000.00.  Yes, I’m thinking the same thing.

What the hell kind of signs are going to be erected in the city of monuments, you ask?  Well, apparently the signage will be used to identify such iconic structures as the Washington Monument and the Lincoln Memorial.

Cue the crickets.

Proponents of the measure argue that the signage is necessary because many foreign and American tourists are unable to identify these buildings.  The National Park Service reports that they often field telephone inquiries from individuals wondering if there is a Nordstrom on the National Mall.

First of all, are you serious?  In our current economic state, should our first priority be ensuring that people know that the Lincoln Memorial, with a ginormous statue of Lincoln sitting, is the Lincoln Memorial and not the Washington Monument?  Apparently, free tourist pamphlets with maps (along with the gigantic maps placed all over DC), are insufficient to inform foreign and American tourists of the names of the monuments that they visit.  What a travesty!  So you’re saying that we should spend $2.2 million to ensure that someone doesn’t post a picture of Junior standing in front of the Washington Monument, and mistakenly label that picture, “Junior at the White House.”  Or to prevent someone posting a video of Junior delivering the Gettysburg Address in the Jefferson Memorial?  And allow me to put on my lawyer hat for a moment.  If we put signs in front of every major building or monument, where do you draw the line?  If, theoretically, the idea is for tourists to be able to specifically identify everything they visit in DC, shall we start putting signs on trees, distinguishing the cedars from the junipers?  What about putting a sign on a bike rack that says, “BIKE RACK” or putting a sign on a fountain that says “FOUNTAIN”?

Second of all, with or without signs, the National Park Service will continue to field phone calls from idiots.  Perhaps, instead, they should just change the name of the National Mall so that no one confuses the large empty field with that of a 2-3 story structure containing a Forever 21, Wetzel’s Pretzels, and Nordstrom.

Finally, $2.2 million?  What the hell kind of signs are being erected?  Are they going to be created out of pure gold and decorated with diamonds?  There aren’t that many monuments in DC, so I can’t figure out how the total cost could possibly equal $2.2 million.  Hell, if you’re looking for a job, you should probably think about working in the signage industry, because I can’t even imagine what the profit margin is on this baby.

Well, perhaps DC can prove me wrong.  Perhaps the signage will actually be money well-spent, and for some reason, tourists who are on the bubble about visiting DC will decide to make the trip because of the $2.2 million signage.  If that happens, I’ll have to change my tactics in getting Tina Fey’s attention, because my current campaign sure as hell is going nowhere fast.  If I win the lottery, I could purchase a $2.2 million sign to be placed in Queens in front of the 30 Rock studios, on which I’ll have a flashing and scrolling marquee with my URL and contact information.  Course, if I win the lottery, will I want to work at all?  I suppose I’ll have to cross that bridge when I get there.

Discover me, Tina Fey!

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10 More Days for Tina Fey — Day Seven

First off, happy b’day to MH!  Yay!  🙂  I can speak for Tina Fey and say that she too wishes you a happy birthday.  She just doesn’t know it yet.

Anyways, the Hollywood Reporter website contains an article about the Parents Television Council’s latest attempts to stick it to Seth McFarlane, creator of Family Guy.  The PTC will be filing an “indecency” complaint about the exploits of the fictitious cartoon characters in Family Guy:

Fox treated viewers to everything from an ‘eleven-way’ gay orgy to baby Stewie eating a bowl of cereal with horse sperm instead of milk … if that isn’t enough, the show’s leading character is also shown fanaticizing about his wife and moaning while a horse licks his bare behind.  Clearly, the explicit content was not isolated to one instance in one segment of the show; it permeated the entire program.

McFarlane has been targeted by the PTC in the past, and frankly, he does not seem to care.  Last year, when asked to comment about the PTC’s campaign against his programming, McFarlane had these choice words:

Oh, yeah. That’s like getting hate mail from Hitler.  They’re literally terrible human beings.  I’ve read their newsletter, I’ve visited their website, and they’re just rotten to the core.  For an organization that prides itself on Christian values — I mean, I’m an atheist, so what do I know? — they spend their entire day hating people.  They can all suck my d**k as far as I’m concerned.

THR has a clip of one of the highly offensive scenes, so feel free to check it out on their website.  After reading this article and viewing the clip, I have to say that I too was outraged.  I really feel like I need to do something about this.  In fact, I think tonight, I’m going to have a serious talk with the hubby about this situation, because I really feel strongly about it.

Why am I outraged, you ask?  I cannot believe I’ve never seen Family Guy.  I mean, holy shit, this show looks awesome!  I mean, look at that description from PTC?  Does it get any better than that?  I need to go home and convince the hubby to order Family Guy on Netflix, because anytime you have a show with horse sperm, I will be recording that shit on my DVR.  Seriously, though — here’s a partial list of other TV shows that have been targeted by the PTC for containing “indecent” content:

  • The Billboard Music Awards — I remember when NSYNC was on the Billboard Music Awards, indecently gyrating their hips and dry-humping the ground.  How filthy and indecent!  Great television!
  • Las Vegas — The simple act of putting Josh Duhamel on television without a shirt is inherently indecent and offensive.  Great television!
  • The Golden Globe Awards — Look at the last Golden Globes, with that entire cast of Slumdog Millionaire?  It can’t get more offensive than children from the India slums acting as children from India slums with childhood crushes.  Gross!  Great television!
  • Friends — 3 men, 3 women, and all that talk about sexy time.  It was like an orgy on prime time.  Great television!
  • Today — Yeah, first Katie Couric, and now Matt Lauer.  You really can’t get more indecent than having someone who describes him/herself as a journalist, but then spends mornings sexually massaging dough in a segment on how to make your own bread during a recession.  Sick!  Cover your eyes!

Nice work PTC.  I might bookmark your webpage just to get a heads up on great television I’m missing.  Thanks!

Tina Fey, if you’re reading this — I have a feeling that the PTC will next put 30 Rock on its hit list (if it hasn’t already).  And you know what, if you make that list, I will shed tears in pride.

Discover me, Tina Fey!

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10 More Days for Tina Fey — Day Six

Virginia, home to Marlboro, will finally become relatively smoke-free on December 1, 2009.  Thank goodness!  I realize that Virginia is probably the biggest tobacco producing state in the union, but it’s not like we let people drink and drive in Kentucky because bourbon is a large industry.  So why let people smoke in enclosed public areas where nonsmokers would suffer from the inhalation of nastiness?

When I saw the news, I decided to do my happy smoke-free dance.  What does this dance look like, you ask?  Well, I take my hand to my mouth in a smoke-like gesture, and then I pretend to snuff out that faux-cigarette up my ass.  Try repeating this dance, adding some jumps and hip sways, to Bobby Brown’s “My Prerogative.”

But let’s get serious here.  This bill took quite a bit of legal wrangling to get passed.  Virginia House Speaker William Howell eloquently stated, “You’re going to tell a guy who fought in the Battle of the Bulge that he can’t have a cigarette with his coffee at the VFW?  You can’t do that.”  I mean, seriously.  For those who fought in the Battle of the Bulge, they have a free pass to do whatever the hell they want.  Want to drive drunk?  Go ahead.  Want to puff smoke into the face of a pregnant woman?  You’ve earned it.  Want to have shooting practice in a schoolyard?  Aye aye soldier.

You know who would be against this anti-smoking bill?  30 Rock’s Jack Donaghy.  Donaghy probably considers nicotine as Darwinian capitalism — the production of goods, designed to kill, to weed out the weak from the rest of society.  I, too, have no problem with smoking.  Just don’t do it near my burger.  Hell, next time I’m in a Virginia bar, I might just have to show everyone my happy smoke-free dance.  Perhaps I can start a new, Macarena-like, trend that will catch on like wildfire and lead to me being featured on local news channels, then the Washington Post, and then the NY Times.  Holy crap.  I better start packing for New York to be on 30 Rock’s writing staff!

Discover me, Tina Fey!

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