Oops! Belated Retrobruxist Friday 11/23/12

Holiday schedule! Totally forgot Retrobruxist Friday!

Three years ago, I wrote about the day I earned my freedom. I was just yesterday saying to somebody that, as much as I would like a partner and a family, I realize that going out to Geer Street Garden with my friends on a Wednesday evening — that’s what says freedom to me these days — is a function of being single and childless, and I do appreciate it.

I had one of my rare sex dreams two years ago. <shudder> <not in a good way>

A year ago, I told a parable. You should read it, for learning. But also for the comments afterward which were really funny.

ALSO, I started a tumblr because I know you were dying to know what things on the internet are good.

Happy Retrobruxist Friday (two days late), y’all.

 

Cooking for Dumbs: Bacon-wrapped Dates (Vlog!)

New vlog! I suppose I could’ve put some makeup on, but it was early, and

I haven’t quite opened any of it yet.

Change takes time, people.

Also, yes, those are benzoyl peroxide bleach stains on my shirt. I’m fancy.

P.S. I forgot to mention, so you don’t inadvertently end up in a relationship with the grocery guy, the dates are WITH THE RAISINS.

Thanks

I’m thankful for dogs
My dogs,
Two foster dogs, and the three mommies who said
Ours
Mine

For my mom who gave me room to make
big mistakes
Look at all that room,
all those mistakes
For Dad, an old dog who tries real hard
to learn new tricks
from his pups

I’m thankful my sister
made a decision to drop out of Bryn Mawr
for some guy
22 years and counting of that guy

I’m thankful my friend humored me and emailed my brother
on his 30th to say
Happy Birthday
and that my brother emailed back

I’m thankful for the little pitchers
the eldest who says Yes
as often and with as much enthusiasm
as her dad (that guy)
for the huggy loud destructive one
for Darfy, even when sharing’s hard
for the one who wrinkles her nose with every Cheese
and the little guy that roars

I’m thankful for Cat, Kate, Cat & Kathleen, Erika & Heather
the Pod
and Zombie Squad
Durhamites, CFDers
Chapel Hill peoples, Seawell School and Lab! Theatre
Cuttyhunk friends
Margo
and Dan New Jersey

I’m thankful for stories
for the Monti, for Jeff
for this
for you
who read
who listen

Thanks

 

I Know Somewhere You Can Insert Your Shortcode

You guys, I bought this new WordPress theme for the blog and hired a graphic designer to make a little banner image for me. Now I’m trying to, you know, put it all on here, and I’m doing some crying.

Not weeping. Just tearing up a little every time I try (five times so far) because before I email the theme people, I’m supposed to post in the tech help forum, and before I post in the tech help form, I’m supposed to read the threads that are already there, and before I read those threads, I’m supposed to read the documentation for the theme, and I can’t read the documentation for the theme, you guys. I can’t read the documentation for the theme.

You guys.

I teach English, but I can’t read this stuff.

It’s all “.zip file” and “FTP client”, and “make sure your host is running the latest version of PHP and MySQL”. The fuck.

And it’s telling me to activate the theme, but in the live preview, my shit is jacked up. I don’t want to activate it if it’s going to look like that.

So I skipped the forum and emailed. Not only that, I emailed to ask if they could call me.

They said no.

So I’m just crying a little bit. Boo hoo.

How Much for That Black Skull, No the One with the Flames

Just got home. Some friends and I rented a cabin up in the mountains for the weekend. We hiked. We hot-tubbed. We had a good time.

Saturday we went into the tiny town of Chimney Rock. Recently I lost an earring from my favorite pair, and shortly thereafter, one from my second favorite pair, so I was hoping that there would be some artsy-craftsy stores selling silver jewelry.

I didn’t find any, but I did find these items for sale.

[UPDATE: To be clear, these photos were taken in nine different stores. Some of my friends thought this was one magical shit-store, but no. All the stores in Chimney Rock are shit-stores.]

Breakfast syrup. Put it on your breakfast.
Ingredients 1, 2, 3, and 5 are sugar.
Bargain at any price.
For the decorative skull enthusiast.
Native-themed home decorations, Looney Tunes statues, and Coca-cola polar bears all in one convenient location.
So many groups to offend, so little buckle collection board space.
Often I find paintings of wolf heads or horse heads and I say, “I would buy these, but they’re *not printed on a piece of wood*.” Well.
A banjo-themed suncatcher… *shaped like a banjo*. Meta.
Ha ha! Gun violence is hilarious.
I.
Gtfo. That’s not a bench press. That’s a weighted push-up.
You know, for enlightenment.
In case you can’t read the hanger, it says “Hillbilly Brief Case”. /Hilarious./
I’m not sure what offends me more, the kitsch or the lapse in parallel structure. Wash your hands or you might get Jesus!

The whole town of Chimney Rock belongs on the Worst Things for Sale website.

Retrobruxist Friday 11/16/12

Redford was just a baby three years ago, and a lil’ goof-bucket. He’s still a goof-bucket, but giant, and an affection bully, busting into your embrace of another dog or another person ’cause what if your love runs out before you get to him? Man, I love that boy.

Some of you have become Dan NJ fans recently. I’ve been president of his fan club for a long time. Two years ago, I wrote about some advice he had given me back when we were roomies in Astoria, Queens. Excellent as the advice was, I extrapolated poorly from it and decided I needed to maintain a dog-shaped space in my house. 

Meh.

I mean, if you set them end to end, you can fit so many dogs into 747 square feet, right? (Yes, this means I’ll probably foster again soon. It’s seemed like there’s one too few pit bulls in my house lately.)

NOTE: There remains a man(or woman!)-shaped space in my bed, for which I’m still recruiting. However, I don’t want to date to do it. I don’t want to email or evaluate prospects. I don’t want to set up dates, go on dates, or follow up after dates. I don’t want any of that. Somebody just come over and get in my bed, for Christ’s sake.

Sometimes I like to think I’m old. About five years ago when I got my first gray pube, I figured life was pretty much in the wrapping-up stage. And a year ago, meeting a cute boy ten years my junior made me start counting my liver spots. 

But the fact is, saying it’s too late, I’m too old, is a racket I’ve been running since I was, like, 12. I think that’s when I decided I was too old to learn to ski.

It’s not too late, really for anything. My grandma started windsurfing when she was 58.

And I’m not actually old. If I start running that line of bullshit again, you have permission to tell me to STFU.

Happy Retrobruxist Friday, y’all.

Catwoman

I had Monday off, so to celebrate, I engaged in one of my favorite leisure activities: watching terrible movies with my buddy Matt, the head_of_fema! We decided on

winner of several 2005 Razzies, and like the others we’ve watched, it disappointed in the most pleasing way.

We open on a credit sequence (Matt: “Directed by Pitof? That’s not a thing”) of cats and maps. Maps and cats. Cats. Maps. Soundtrack evocative of, but not as good as, Enigma’s “Sadness Part 1” (come on, you know that was your jam).

Maps.

Cats.

Voiceover: “It all started on the day that I died.”

That’s Patience Phillips speaking. Not-a-thing Pitof clearly tried to make the main character start out as frump girl — unkempt hair, flowy Afro-print tank top — but how do you make Halle Berry unattractive? Un-possible. Whatever, she’s supposed to be not-hot and clumsy and flustered all the time. She’s Halle Berry, of Monster’s Ball — girl can act — so I’ll buy the clumsy and flustered part, even if she’s gorgeous.

Patience and her chubby BFF Sally (you probably know her as Ms. Swan) work in the marketing department of a huge cosmetics company. Sidekick Sally is shown slathering herself with the as-yet-unreleased product Beau-line (pronounced Bee-you-leen, for no reason whatsoever) and effusing about how great it is. Wanna bet?

Cut to board meeting. CEO with a Fronch accent and slimy demeanor is announcing the launch of Beau-line. Wifie (Sharon Stone) interrupts to say she’s stepping down as the face of the company and introduces the new model, who’s fucking her husband. She doesn’t say that last part, but you can just tell.

Back in his office, Fronch CEO dresses down Patience for her work: “I don’t know why I expected your art to show better taste than your wardrobe.” Ouch. But he has a point. That tank top. Ugh.

Late that night, Patience is awakened by a loud party at the neighbor’s apartment. She opens the window and says at a conversational volume to the closed window across the alley, behind which death metal is playing at full volume, “Could you, like, turn down your music? Aw. Hmph.”

The next day, she attempts to rescue a cat on the ledge of her building. Police officer Tom Lone (Benjamin Bratt — mmmm, dreamy) thinks she’s a jumper, tries to talk her down, runs upstairs, bashes in her apartment door, and catches her as she’s about to fall to her death, all in the span of about eight seconds.

Me: “That was fast.”
Matt: “He’s a really good cop.”

Patience sprints out to work.

Back at the company, Wifie is wearing… I don’t know.

Me: “What’s she got on there?”
Matt: “Seven yards of amazing.”

Fronch CEO is lecturing her about how we can’t defeat Father Time. Wanna bet?

Tom Lone has tracked Patience down (using her dropped wallet, natch, because she’s clumsy). While Sally looks on, Lone asks her out for coffee. After he leaves, Sidekick Sally tells Patience she has to wear that leather outfit she got her for her birthday. (I always wear chaps on my coffee dates.) Patience says she’ll never wear that leather outfit. Wanna bet?

Late that night, Patience takes the redone artwork for the campaign to the cosmetics lab and overhears the brass talking about whether they should release the product given the side effects (headaches, fainting, nausea, and if you stop using it, dinocroc skin!). Aw, man, she shouldn’t have heard that. But she definitely shouldn’t have bumped into a tray full of glass, alerting them to her presence. She’s so clumsy!

The brass send a coupla goons after her, who flush her out a pipe, and she drowns.

BUT!

Eighty-seven cats stalk up to her washed-up corpse. One sits on her chest and breathes Fancy Feast breath right in her face, and she’s a cat! She coughs up a hairball, bats at a spider, jumps onto a balcony, and punches through her own window because those are all things cats do.

Patience/Catwoman wakes up the next morning. The breathy cat from last night is in her apartment. She checks the collar and goes to visit the owner, the mom from Six Feet Under, in her craftsman house right in the middle of the city skyscrapers, because sure. Francis Conroy rubs catnip on Patience’s face. I am not making this up.

In some of the worst dialogue of the movie, Fronch CEO tries to fire Patience for not getting the artwork in, and she quits. Sassily. Like how a cat quits its job.

Walking with Sidekick Sally, Patience hisses at dogs and then is drawn to a necklace in a jewelry store window. You think this necklace will have a big significance later in the movie, but you’re wrong. Sidekick Sally faints. (Are you wondering if she has headaches, nausea, and dinocroc skin too?!) They go to the hospital. Sidekick Sally flirts with her doctor and acts totally not sick.

Patience visits Officer Lone at the school where he’s giving a Say No to Drugs talk, and then they play the weirdest game of one-on-one basketball ever. Patience wins because cats are good at basketball.

The neighbor is having another wild party, but this time, Patience busts down the door, sprays the speakers down with the soda hose, and then uses it as a whip! She’s recognizing her power!

Matt: “MONTAGE! MONTAGE!”

That leather outfit she was never gonna wear? Wears it. That unkempt hair? Edward Scissorhandses it. That motorcycle? (Whose motorcycle? Shush!) Rides it all over the city.

Robbery in progress at the jewelry store where she saw that necklace! Catwoman puts a stop to that. “You thought you could come here and steal all these beautiful things? What a purrrrrrfect idea!” She beats them all up and surfs on one dude across the floor. Cats and surfing are like cats and basketball.

Matt: “They love water! They love surfing.”

Catwoman grabs the loot and leaves. Regretful in the morning, she returns it all. Except a real pretty ring and the Insignificant Necklace.

Patience returns to Francis Conroy’s house. Frances Conroy tells her she died and was reborn a cat and pushes her off a balcony to show her she’ll land on her feet. Patience vows to find her own killer.

She runs across rooftops in even less leather than before until she sees one of the goons who was chasing her before her death, at which point she follows him into a club. Dance break! Whip! Fight scene! She whoops ass.

[Other stuff happens but it’s boring.]

Fronch CEO has a fight with Wifie, slaps her, and almost breaks his hand. Beau-line has made her face like marble!

[More boring stuff.]

Shortest, least satisfying sex scene ever between Patience and Officer Lone. I’m feeling real weird about how hot I got watching Halle Berry have sex with Billy Bob Thornton and I’m scowling when she’s getting it on with Benjamin Bratt?

<Avid Bruxist makes therapy appointment>

Lone is putting zero and zero together to figure out that Patience is Catwoman. Meanwhile, Wifie kills Fronch CEO and frames Catwoman. Officer Lone arrests her. She tries to explain that things aren’t what they look like.

Lone: “What should I see?”
Patience: “The girl you had that short, unsatisfying sex scene with last night.”

Patience slips through the bars of her cell, leathers up, and steals a — wait for it — Jaguar. To thwart the evil cosmetics company’s plan, Catwoman chains all the Beau-line truck axles together. All of them. Because for their worldwide launch, all the company needed was a baker’s dozen of 18-wheelers.

Catwoman confronts Wifie. Wifie explains that if you stop using Beau-line, you get dinocroc face, and if you keep using it, you get marble face.

Um.

Thanks for that exposition.

Because exposition always goes in the climax.

And we didn’t already know that from the exposition earlier in the movie where exposition goes.

CAT FIGHT! Not a bad one either, actually. Wifie ends up falling fifty stories out a window.

And then we have another Montage! Montage! Francis Conroy pets a cat. Sidekick Sally finds love.

Me: “Hey, chubby girl gets hot doctor!”
Matt: “Doctor loses license.”

Catwoman writes Lone a Dear John letter and cats off into the distance to a sassy song that’s evocative of, but not as good as, anything by Christina Aguilera (come on, you know she’s your girl).

I mean, if you only have two hours, go with Dinocroc vs. Supergator, but if it’s a lazy Sunday, you could put on your Blu-ray of Pitof’s Catwoman.

Liar

Depression lies.

Depression tells you that that one’s too young — he can’t possibly want what you want out of a relationship, so don’t even ask — and that other one, he’s too straight-laced — he’d bolt at the first sign of the real you.

And do you really want him anyway?

Depression says you’re too tired to walk the dogs, it’s too cold to walk the dogs. Then you’re an asshole for not walking the dogs.

God, you’re so fucking lazy.

Depression tells you that that thing you posted on your friend’s Facebook wall? She didn’t realize you were joking and now she thinks you’re mean. And it won’t stop saying it.

You’re mean.

Everyone thinks you’re mean.

Depression whispers that it won’t work out. It’ll never work out.

Depression says there’s something wrong with you. Like, fundamentally wrong with you. That’s why shit is so messed up.

It’s your fault. You caused it.

And depression? Depression is an excellent liar.

**********

I’m fine. I’ll be fine. It’s just, for the last couple weeks, I’ve been lied to a lot.