Tag Archives: michelle obama

10 New Days for Tina Fey — Day Two

Yesterday, Ty Inc. announced that it would rename its Sasha and Malia dolls — the dolls that bore a slight resemblance to Malia and Sasha Obama.  The First Lady had denounced Ty Inc.’s obvious attempt to capitalize on the first daughters, and Ty Inc. decided to voluntarily rename the dolls out of respect for the wishes of the first family.

But it got me thinking — Ty Inc. got a buttload of publicity by creating dolls in the first daughters’ likeness.  What’s to stop me from attempting to obtain the same kind of publicity?  I know what you’re thinking — I agree with you that it perhaps would not be wise for me to create a doll in Tina Fey’s likeness, or in her daughter’s likeness, or in her hubby’s likeness.  That would not be cool.  But keep in mind that my ultimate goal is not to create a figurine/doll that resembles my comedic idol — my goal is to get the woman’s attention.  So I’ve crafted the following list of real personas that may translate into much-needed publicity should I create a doll or figurine of these persons:

  • Tom Daschle Talking Action Figure — Also known as “Tommy D,” my Daschle figurine will say various phrases at the push of a button.  Phrases such as “Hey baby, want a ride in my expensed limo?” “taxes schmaxes,” and “I heart nomination distractions.”
  • Pull-My-Finger Christian Bale — My Christian Bale figurine will come equipped with various costumes, as well as realistic Hollywood set items (camera, lighting) that wind-up Bale can throw a distance of up to 6 feet.  And the best part, if you pull Bale’s finger, he’ll tell you what to do with yours.
  • Plaxico Burress the Bullet — My Plaxico doll will come equipped with various types of pants, all of which will include flexible waistbands.  Each doll is uniquely programmed such that a particular placement of the included replica .9 mm will lead to discharge, which will make your Plaxico doll scream, “I can’t believe I just shot myself doing that stupid thing on TV where people stick guns down their pants.”

I need to partner with a toy manufacturer, because I can’t even draw a proportional stick figure, let alone create a three-dimensional figurine.  Well, I know one thing.  In addition to the aforementioned phrases, each doll will also be programmed to say, “Discover Alexis Nectar, Tina Fey!” and “alexisnectar.wordpress.com, Tina Fey!”

Yeah baby.  I’m thinking outside the box.

Discover me, Tina Fey!

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Filed under Movies, Personal Pontification, Plea to Tina Fey

10 Days for Tina Fey — Day One

I have finished writing my amazingly hilarious episode of 30 Rock!  Now, I begin the uphill task of getting Tina Fey’s attention.  So beginning today, I will embark on 10 days for Tina Fey — a series of blog posts dedicated to all that is Tina Fey.

Today, I would like to announce to Tina Fey that my desire to work on her staff runs so deep that I would endure the day I endured yesterday for the opportunity to be graced by her highness of hilarity.  So what, you ask, did I endure yesterday?

Yesterday, I braved the blistering cold and wind to witness approximately five minutes of glory.  From 9:30 in the morning until the early evening, I stood alongside the hubby, GL, and PMP to witness history.  With parade tickets in hand, the four of us navigated the depths of the Metro (during which I was jostled, fondled, dry humped and pushed with two hands) to emerge into Washington DC, with numbingly cold temperatures and a make-you-want-to-die wind chill.  Alongside millions of other people, some coming from distant lands, we marched through the urban wilderness, found our way through security, and planted ourselves atop what only looked like an ordinary bleacher.  But this bleacher, and our seats in particular, were far from ordinary.  Atop these seats, we could see the human skyline reaching down Penn Ave — to our right was the Capitol, where Obama was being sworn in by the Chief Justice with a bad memory, and to our left was the White House, where a village idiot had just been ousted.  Looking up, we could see the real-life Jack Bauers scanning the crowd with binoculars from atop the DC office buildings.  And below, hundreds of police officers and military officers from all over the region gathered to protect us and the President from those who would do us harm.

Within minutes, the bitter cold set into our bones, causing tingling in our feet and hands and numbness in our cheeks.  As Obama’s inauguration soundtrack played — Aretha, U2, Disco — we quickly learned that the best method of staying warm would be to move in a completely erratic fashion.  I created my own dance, which involved keeping my arms on my side and swaying back and forth, head bobbing to the beat.  Others joined in, with scattered cries of “Arrest Bush” and “I am going to freeze to death” peppering an otherwise festive event.

After all was said and done, though, the hours and hours of pain; the thought that perhaps toes would require amputation; the peculiar draw of a bright light in the distance as I felt my body shut down — all of this was worth it when the Obamas walked hand in hand down Penn Ave, waving at me, my hubby, and our friends.  Indeed, Michelle Obama looked straight as me as I screamed, “Michelle in 2016!” — She gave me a wink and a nod, signaling not just her acknowledgment of my request, but her acceptance of my challenge.

So what does this all have to do with Tina Fey?  Well, Tina Fey is my comedic hero.  Should Ms. Fey request it, I will gather as many friends as possible (ok, so no more than 15) to embark on a journey to the 30 Rock studios so we can camp outside the bitter Manhattan cold in order to catch a glimpse of Tina Fey waving at me.  In fact, she doesn’t have to wave exactly at me.  If she simply flagged down a taxicab, I’m sure that I will view such action as not only a wave of recognition to me, but also a wave requesting that I follow said taxicab so I can continue to throw my script at Tina Fey when she exits, wondering why a strange Asian chick wearing a ridiculous amount of clothing and somewhat resembling the Pillsbury Dough Boy has tripped face forward into an uncovered manhole — but it will be all worth it if Tina Fey catches my script and reads it.

Discover me, Tina Fey!

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Filed under Plea to Tina Fey

Why Do Young People Flock to Obama?

As November 4th nears, I present to you one reason why young people flock to support Senator Obama:  He is in touch with the interests of the youth.

Case in Point No. 1:  The infamous “Fist Bump,” which, in this writer’s view, is simply a hipper way of giving the now archaic “high-five.”  Is “hipper” a cool word?  I’m too old to know.  In examining this picture, one can see how this fist bump is completely genuine — note that Senator Obama and the First Lady to Be are looking each other directly in the eyes, indicating that the two have been bumping fists for quite some time and have synchronized the critical timing and knuckle placement of the bump.  Imagine Johnny Mac bumping fists with Cindy McPill — call the doctor because I hear some bones breaking!

Case in Point No. 2:  Dusting dirt off his shoulders.  Nothing demonstrates a person’s determination and resilience than dusting dirt off your shoulders.  It’s one thing to say that Johnny Mac and the Moron’s campaign of lies will not stop you in your tracks — but to the younger generation, a couple simple swipes off the shoulder will more than suffice to convey those words.

Case in Point No. 3:  The Dance.  Barack Obama is not afraid to have a dance party — with the whole world watching.  Having watched Obama dance, I’m pretty confident he has no formal training.  As an avid follower of dance shows like SYTYCD and DWTS, Obama’s moves are a bit elementary.  He combines a mild sway with a gentle crossing of his arms.  Not too much going on there, but endearing to the youth of America — many of whom are also not blessed with the gyrating hips of Justin Timberlake.  I mean, for every Justin, there’s got to be 1,000 Jonathan Knights.  Michelle Obama, on the other hand — that lady looks like she’s got some moves.

To end, a brief lesson in logic — All (well, most) young people love Obama.  I am young (sort of).  I love Obama!

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Filed under I Heart Reality TV, Personal Pontification, SYTYCD