Mrs. Brown, you've got a lovely daughter

In the first picture is Peter Noone, of Herman's Hermits fame. Below him you will find Matt Damon, otherwise known as The Most Aryan Man In The WORLD. Coincidence? Or is this part of a far more sinister plot on behalf of Mr. Noone to clone himself and infiltrate the Affleck camp and learn the innermost workings of Bennifer 2.0? Only time will tell.

I can tell you this much; I ought to be a casting director, and I should also write a sweepingly dramatic biopic in the vein of A Beautiful Mind about the rise and fall of the 52nd most influential pop group of the 1960's (the ranking system is all mine-they outranked The Troggs because at least their stupid name doesn't sound like a tool you fix plumbing with, but fell behind Strawberry Alarm Clock because without them I would be unaware of the delicious combination that is incense and peppermints).

I can't see such a movie NOT being a major Oscar contender-they were lyrical geniuses, their work echoing the sentiments of a nation in turmoil. In this groundbreaking single, the Hermits detail a tyrannical political system gone awry:

"I'm Henry The Eighth, I am!

Henry The Eighth I am, I am!

I got married to the widow next door

She's been married seven times before

And every one was an Henry (Henry)

She wouldn't have a Willie or a Sam (no Sam)

I'm her eighth old man, I'm Henry

Henry The Eighth I am!"

A delight. Where else would be learn the little-known historical fact that Henry VIII was so-called not because he was the 8th in his lineage, but because he was the 8th husband of a woman who only married men of that name?! Note to all the skeptics: these guys were British, people. They are scientifically proven to be better than us at all things historical. Legally, we can't question them on anything to pertaining to the monarchy, classical music, or Wham. I think it's in the Magna Carta.

Or how about this epic ballad of love, loss, and redemption:

"Mrs. Brown, you've got a lovely daughter

Girls as sharp as her are somethin' rare

But it's sad, she doesn't love me now

She's made it clear enough it ain't no good to pine"

Simply stunning. Their use of painfully descriptive words to detail the anguish involved is breathtaking (note: "sad", 3rd line). The speaker is absolutely devastated; this eloquent word-smith, whose use of English tells us that he is above par in terms of intelligence ("somethin'", "ain't no good"), had finally managed to find one of those rare, sharp women, and now he's lost her. The social conscience of the song-writer is apparent as well; while Simon & Garfunkel detailed a morally reprehensible illicit affair with a girl's mother in "Mrs. Robinson", Herman's Hermits remind us that we are meant to use mothers to get to their daughters, not the other way around.

I regretfully must end this post now, but I leave you with my favorite excerpt from the works of this musical power-house, from the classic "Dandy":

"Dandy, Dandy

Chattin' up the ladies

Ticklin' their fancy

Pourin' out your charms

To meet your own demands

And you turn it off at will

Huh-oh, they long for

Dandy, Dandy

Knockin' on the back door

Climbin' through the window

Hubby's gone away

And while the cat's away

The mice are gonna play

Uh-hmm, you low-down

Dandy, Dandy, Dandy"

Bob Dylan who?

Satan's Soft Drink

Alright, it’s time to come clean; who’s the jackass who came up with the new Dr. Pepper “Berries & Cream”? I want to know right now what kind of person thought those flavors would gel together, and why said person has a job developing new products to ingest as he clearly either has no tongue or his taste buds are playing a dirty, dirty trick on him. I still can not accept Diet Cherry Vanilla Coke on a moral level; if we allow two flavors such as vanilla and cherry to cohabitate, what’s next? And do we really want to expose our children to such despicable debauchery? It’s just not natural. But now I am expected to drink a sick concoction of berries and cream and the crazy, unidentifiable flavor of Dr. Pepper?! THE TIME HAS COME TO TAKE A STAND.

Ok, here’s the thing though. My biggest issue is not this bastardized melee of completely non-cohesive flavors, but rather their horrific tagline:

“Get lost in the flavor. Get berried in cream.”

What. The. Mother. Hell.

sjejencidsiwkql;sdodjejiqwio

Oh, sorry, my brain just exploded from the stupid.

First of all...ok, I don't even know what the first of it all is as it is all equally bad. Ok, ok, I got it! First of all: ignoring the clever* word-play, who wants to get lost and buried in anything? This makes me think of an avalanche which makes me think of Alaska which makes me think of "Alive" which makes me think of cannibalism. So drinking this "beverage"= eating your buddy's arm.

But if you are going to be buried in something, should it be something as thick as cream?! You won't be able to breathe, people. Think about it. Not too hard though, you don't want to get a panic attack thinking about suffocating in a giant vat of cream.

"Oh, if only I didn't take that wrong turn! I can't believe I got lost in the flavor AGAIN!" you'll think to yourself as you sink further into the lactic abyss.




*completely non-clever

Team Grier!

Any readers of this blog working in law enforcement? I need you to run some plates for me (note: I’ve wanted to ask someone to “run some plates” for YEARS. I also want to say “book ‘em, Dan-o” and rough up some hooligans):

22A-9996 -IN 0406 PA
Make: Dodge
Model: Van

The owner of this vehicle inadvertently dropped their parking ticket under my windshield wiper at the main library and then got into their Dodge van (parked at expired meter #22) and they are probably just PANICKING trying to get this ticket back (I fully expect to see posters around that read “LOST TICKET” with a picture of a smiling child hugging her beloved parking ticket any day now).

Look, I’m not trying to locate this person for vengeance. I merely think it is my civic duty to blow the whistle and get this bastard the hell out of the proverbial gene pool (he can hang out at the picnic tables for awhile, or maybe the roped off diving board area, just nowhere that his DNA can taint our human race). Did he think that I would return to my car and a.) seriously believe that I had a ticket from a meter that had run out 4 minutes earlier (although those parking enforcers are Satan’s minions-they are everywhere and pretty much the bane of my existence) and b.) that I wouldn’t even look at the ticket and just pay it? And if I didn’t look at it (during which I would notice that it doesn’t say “Ford” under make, or “decrepit piece of crap” under style-KIDDING, kidding, Big Red please just make it back to Virginia, baby, I’ll buy you a car wash), how would I know how much to pay? DOES HE THINK I AM IN THE HABIT OF SENDING BLANK CHECKS TO PARKING SERVICES?

So I want to find out the name and address of this winner so that I can personally return his ticket to him. And possibly slash the tires on his Dodge van. And MAYBE there will be some light slapping involved.



On an unrelated note, how psyched is Tallulah Belle Moore/Willis right now you guys? T.B., Rumor, Scout, and Bob Geldof’s daughters, Tiger Lily and Fifi LeTrixieCrap or whatever her name is should just throw a huge party in honor of the Paltrow-Martins and the Holmes/Psycruises, and Shields/No Name Husband Because She Wears The Calvins In The Family. Do you think that Tiger Lily Geldof ever thought she’d be able to go into a room where her name wasn’t the biggest cruel parental joke in history? I love this. And how is Moses looking the most normal out of all this?!?! Somewhere in rock and roll heaven, Frank Zappa’s smiling and saying “See, Dweezil? I told you and Moon Unit that the day would come when your names wouldn’t be the batshit-craziest ones in the phone book.”

I really think this is awesome. I can’t wait until celebrities run out of ridiculous words/non-names and just start doling out Prince-esque symbols to their kids (Like “§ Spears”, or “Ω Aniston”). As someone who grew up cursing her parents for giving her the most popular girl’s name of 1983, sentencing her to a life of having to use her last initial to distinguish herself from the 40 other Jennifers in every classroom she ever stepped foot in, I can appreciate a little creativity.

But Tom Cruise, you just named your kid “Suri”, having your P.R. person (this has replaced Naomi Campbell’s maid as the job in Hollywood most likely to literally kill you, by the way) explain it away as meaning something in Hebrew (debatable, but whatev) or Persian. TWO CULTURES THAT NEITHER YOU NOR YOUR SPAWN NOR YOUR SPAWN’S INCUBATOR ARE ACTUALLY MEMBERS OF. You are a delight, Tommy. Don’t go changing.

Or how about Shield’s kid, Grier? I want to mock this, but I don’t think it’s wise, seeing as how in 20ish years when Grier and Suri stage an epic good vs. evil battle for control of the world, I’m going to be Team Grier 100% (seriously, this is some freaky, sci-fi shizz you guys. Born on the same day, in the same hospital, to enemy parents? Christians, let me know if this is part of your book because I feel like it must be-mine’s got too much of the “don’t eat this” and “don’t lie down with that” kind of stuff that we really don’t get into the good Apocalyptic specifics). Ooooh, I wonder what team Moses will be on, cause I’m siding with him. You know, just in case there’s a large body of water and angry Egyptians involved.

Have you accepted this blog entry into your life?

Today I was walking to class and I saw the most ridiculous thing ever. Right outside of Ballentine (where the grad students have been protesting) there were two guys in suits sitting by a sign that said "ASK THE MORMON MISSIONARIES A QUESTION".

Could you be more lazy, please? Look, that's not how this works; I don't bring my wayward, sinning soul to YOU, you come to ME. What happened to the good old days when they went out and rode the C bus and pounded the pavement, looking for those sinners? They need to go to the people. I mean, we all know how I feel about proselytizing (if you need to advertise your religion...all I'm saying), but I get that part of Christianity is needing to "spread the word" and blah blah blah and I am secure enough in my beliefs not to be swayed by some guy on the bus who wants to give me a free bible (but bring hats or t-shirts and maybe we'll talk). But you need to put in the effort.

I can't believe that they don't understand that they annoy (and offend-sorry, it comes off as CRAZY arrogant regardless of your intent) people and that no one is going to actively seek them out; that's like the telemarketers setting up a kiosk in the mall and expecting people to stop by and express their dissatisfaction with their current long distance carrier. Ain't gonna happen. Oh, and for the record, I'm not picking on the Mormons, and i have friends who are Mormon and haven't told me (at least not to my face) that I'm on the highway to hell-this goes for everyone else out there P.R.ing it up for the Lord. ESPECIALLY the Jehovah's Witnesses who come to my house and ring a doorbell that's mere inches away from a mezuzah and see that my dad wears a yarmulke and STILL try to do their little song and dance. Dude...he already has the accessories. You're too late.

All she wants to do is DANCE ( and make romance, but dancing is really the focus here)

I just watched "West Side Story" for the first time in years. I seriously don't remember it being this horrifically lame. I also don't remember Natalie Wood's faux-Rican accent as being Russian. Had she ever met a Puerto-Rican person in her life? Did she know they don't come from Eastern-Europe? I just have to wonder. Also, I think it is SO cute how Joan of Arcadia, aka, Amber Tamblyn has followed in her daddy's footsteps, taking on the Angsty White Teen roles (he plays the lead Jet, in case you couldn't tell from the creepy cheek-bones).

Now I'm not an expert on gang wars or anything (I know, I had to dispel any rumors floating around out there), but I am fairly certain that if these people were to wander into modern day Los Angeles, the Jets would be killed within 15, 20 seconds tops. And I don't mean by gangs, I mean by drivers. The whole dancing/snapping in the street thing just wouldn't fly. But seriously, the Crips and Bloods would probably pool their weapons together to get rid of the Jets. The Sharks MIGHT fair a bit better; their clothes and hair are MUCH cooler. Plus it would be harder to get to them; they spend most of their time dancing on roof tops.

I kind of wish that I lived in a musical, if only for the fact that I've always felt I needed my own theme song. Plus sometimes you just need to dance it out. My new favorite thing is to listen to my iPod while grocery shopping (which I HATE, by the way; the idea that I must purchase AND prepare my own meals is just LUDICROUS. Who thought of that brilliant plan? Clearly the same jackass who decided that people should work in exchange for money). Guys, trust me, it is SO MUCH FUN. Because it's kind of like you're in a movie. I even have a specific playlist for it (NOTE: the songs MUST be upbeat-no one wants to be doing that weirdo fruit molestation thing to check if the melon is ripe while "Tears in Heaven" is blasting), a playlist which MUST include "Mambo #5" (I don't know why, but it is the single greatest song to listen to while grocery shopping, it's something scientific that I can't get into right now). You MUST be cautious though. Two things to keep in mind:
1. Enjoy the music, but remember that you are still in public, a public that might happen to be located in a conservative Midwestern state where your singing along to Nazareth's "Hair of the Dog" might not be too appreciated. In my defense, there are some song lyrics that require you to literally scream them. Like the song "The Hippy Hippy Shake"-you are legally obligated to yell the first line-"FOR GOODNESS SAKE! I GOT THE HIPPY HIPPY SHAKE!". I can't explain it, but I can't NOT do it. So at least I was singing "Hair of the Dog" softly. Granted, it's a little disconcerting for someone to melodically declare "now you're messin with a/a son of a biiiiitch", regardless of the decibel.
2. In keeping with number 1, please keep in mind that listening to an upbeat catchy tune might alter your usual gait (the highly feared "Saturday Night Fever" Syndrome). Do keep in mind that no one else can hear your music. So the guy buying eggs is going to wonder why you are trying to seduce him with an especially provocative walk down the dairy aisle ( for the same reasons, I urge you not to include the Bangles' classic "Walk Like An Egyptian"-why even tempt yourself?)

Go now! Try it out for yourself! And while you're there, please get me some vegetarian sushi and green tea! Because I am out and really want some right now! Thanks friend!

(This me, visually representing for you how sad I will be if you don't go get that sushi. )

(This is me, happy again because I convinced my Gigantic Chin of Destruction to go buy said sushi for me. Seriously, look at that thing. My rollerderby name will be "Jaws O' Life".)

(This is Mick. He has nothing to with anything. Except I suggest you include "Honky Tonk Women" and "Get Off My Cloud" on your Grocery Mix)