March 2004
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Oscar Recap
01 March, 2004 at 09:51 AM by Ren | Permalink
So last night, like every good pop-culture maven, I watched the Oscars®. No Oscar® party for me, though...I spent the evening watching the Oscars® with my online partner in crime, SargieGirl. What follows are highlights from hours of delightful conversation and banter as well as heckling. Ok, mostly heckling.
AricDanyul: what in the fuck is wrong with that woman's hair?
SargieGirl: it was styled with a Garden Weasel
AricDanyul: and apparently the Garden Weasel wasn't cleaned before they used it on her
SargieGirl: nope
AricDanyul: Oh God woman
AricDanyul: CONDITIONER!
SargieGirl: UMA!
SargieGirl: WTF?!
SargieGirl: "let's merge the drapes with some gaudy lederhosen"
AricDanyul: oh Sofia Coppola
AricDanyul: how you ruined Godfather III
SargieGirl: no kidding
SargieGirl: but she's really turned into a lovely one
AricDanyul: I'm glad she's a much better director than an actress
AricDanyul: because she was just flat out BAD.
SargieGirl: she's a great director
AricDanyul: [watching Sofia Coppola present an award] I see she still reads her lines woodenly
SargieGirl: of course she does
SargieGirl: "Hi, I have a consistent volume of my voice with no inflections because I am made of pine"
AricDanyul: did they just add an extra 'r' in JRR Tolkien?
SargieGirl: it's the Bad Hair Twins!
AricDanyul: God, Sofia has some horse teeth
SargieGirl: I know
SargieGirl: like Mr. Ed and Nancy Kerrigan had a baby
AricDanyul: do you get the feeling that if it were up to Peter Jackson he'd be in his boxer shorts eating cheetos?
SargieGirl: I'd be doing the same thing actually
AricDanyul: holy shit! Peter Jackson is SHORTER than Tom
Cruise!
AricDanyul: Wow. What's wrong with Diane Keaton? Hasn't anyone told her that Annie Hall was 26 years ago?
SargieGirl: you know...you find a look you like and you stick with it
SargieGirl: FOREVER.
AricDanyul: someone should have told Diane Keaton that you ugly it up for your ROLE
AricDanyul: not for the OSCARS®.
AricDanyul: That's how you win.
AricDanyul: "this is the first academy award ceremony Sean Penn has attended"
AricDanyul: "it's also his first Oscar®"
Towards the end of the ceremonies, Billy Crystal said something about how all of New Zealand had been thanked and then said:
OscarHost2K4: I'd like to thank Long Island while we're thanking people
So of course Sargie and I had to comment on that...
AricDanyul: "since we've already thanked everyone in New Zealand, GO AUSTRALIA!"
SargieGirl: AUSSIE AUSSIE AUSSIE! OY OY OY!
AricDanyul: "You deserve better than Young Einstein!"
SargieGirl: "We'd like to thank the people of New Zealand for their hospitality...and we'd like to thank the sheep of New Zealand for their...'hospitality'"
Once the ceremonies were concluding, we thought it best to add our own interesting credits and thank yous:
AricDanyul: "Headlight flashes provided by Angelina Jolie's breasts"
SargieGirl: "Hotness courtesy of Sting"
SargieGirl: "Orchestra furnished by Bob's Discount Orchestras & Farm Supply"
AricDanyul: "J. Lo's absence from tonight's ceremonies is on us, people."
AricDanyul: "you're welcome."
SargieGirl: "Hot guy courtesy of Charlize Theron"
AricDanyul: "Peter Jackson, if you're still here: Carson, Kyan, Ted, Thom and Jai need to speak with you."
The Oscars® are just so much more fun with friends who heckle with you.
02 March, 2004 at 11:16 AM by Ren | Permalink
Been a while since I took an online test, so here are my latest results. Damn, this one read me DOWN.
You are Statler or Waldorf.
You have a high opinion of yourself, as do others.
But only because you are in the balcony seats.
ALSO KNOWN AS:
Those two old guys in the box.
SPECIAL TALENTS:
Heckling, complaining, being cantankerous
QUOTE:
"Get off the stage, you bum!"
LAST BOOKS READ:
"The Art of Insult" and "How To
Insult Art"
NEVER LEAVE HOME WITHOUT:
Their pacemakers.
What Muppet are you?
brought to you by Quizilla
Friday Five
05 March, 2004 at 03:19 PM by Ren | Permalink
Another Friday Five, mainly because I'm too busy to think of something more interesting to write.
- your first grade teacher's name?
Mrs. Sevier. Yes. That was really her name. And she was just as mean as that name implied. She had been teaching since students rode dinosaurs to school. She was that old. Seriously, the California Redwoods had nothing on the rings this woman undoubtably had if you sliced her open. I always thought she hated me, but it turns out that she still asks for me from time to time; she no longer teaches, but she lives by my first elementary school and has asked my grandmother how I'm doing. Seriously, that woman is probably a million years old by now. - your favorite Saturday morning cartoon?
hmm, this one is tough. I abstain from passing judgement on a one time a week cartoon and instead pick a cartoon shown daily: Thundercats. - the name of your very first best friend?
Charlie Villasenor. What can I say, I apparently have a thing for people named Charlie. - your favorite breakfast cereal?
Duh. Frosted Flakes. - your favorite thing to do after school?
I'm not in school anymore, but my favorite thing to do after work is too twisted for the general audience on this website. That doesn't mean I often partake in this activity, it's just what I like to do the best.
Hey, if you get bored, you can always go read Gidget's new work blog. She's a DJ you know. Or, you can go read Pamie's latest journal entry. The defense rizzles.
Here's something interesting
08 March, 2004 at 02:35 AM by Ren | Permalink
I don't think i've ever mentioned this before, but I have a neighbor who lives in the apartment next to mine. Not really surprising, really, but the story gets better eventually, I promise. See, I've never actually *seen* this guy before since his door is in the breezeway after mine...but I've been told by visitors to my lovely abode that he's quite tasty as he can often be seen on his patio smoking or whatever. Well, from time to time I've heard the sounds of lovemaking coming through the walls.
The girl always sounded wickedly satisfied.
The sounds had dropped off considerably in the recent past, so I was thinking my allegedly tasty neighbor might have broken up with his girlfriend. Not so tonight. The girl was making her usual sounds of pleasure...this time with the added sonic luxury of his own satisfaction. That wasn't the only difference tonight though, I noticed (not like I was paying *that* much attention...I'm not THAT big a pervert) that the distinct melody of some bam-chicka-chicka were playing.
Mon dieu! I thought to myself. He's not satisfying his woman, he's just listening to porn--loudly.
The sad truth: my neighbor isn't really boning his girlfriend loudly; he's just jacking off to some hot porn.
Remind me to buy headphones for my computer. After all, I dont' need anyone hearing *me* watch porn. Not that I actually do--it's just that the walls in this complex are mighty thin.
08 March, 2004 at 04:12 PM by Ren | Permalink
Someday, someone I love will get me one of these, and I will love them forever and ever, because only they truly understand my warped sense of humor.
Torpedo Caskets
09 March, 2004 at 09:25 AM by Ren | Permalink
So I'm making my rounds of the news websites/blogs this morning, and I came across this on MSNBC: Actor Paul Winfield Dies
Now, most of you are probably all "who is that?" but you see, I'm a huge Star Trek nerd (I mean, I can tell you what the difference is between a dual-lobed and quad-lobed warp core) and to me Paul Winfield will always hold a special place as Captain Terrell of the U.S.S. Reliant. He and Commander Chekov were the Starfleet officers who had "creatures put in [our] bodies" and tried to kill Admiral Kirk. Except Captain Terrell killed himself in a very cool phaser-set-to-kill vaporizing (complete with creepy scream as he disintegrates) rather than kill a fellow Starfleet officer.
Ever since that moment was stored in my six year old brain, I've remembered Paul as Capt. Terrell. I saw him on tons of stuff, always as a lawyer or a judge or some other authority figure, but in my head he was always Captain Terrell; the man who killed himself so he wouldn't have to shoot that scenery-chewer Shatner.
Rest in peace, Paul Winfield. May you get a burial at space by getting shot out of a torpedo shaft in one of those cool sunglass cases.
"Because I'm keepin' it real..."
09 March, 2004 at 11:52 PM by Ren | Permalink
So, up until a bit ago I was lying in bed starting to fall asleep when I hear my new downstairs neighbor...
Wait, have I mentioned the evil barking dog from hell has moved out? I see I have not. So yeah, after what felt like forever and a day, that goddamn, evil dog has moved out. He's been replaced with a neighbor who likes his Jay-Z. He likes his Jay-Z really, really f*cking loud. I eventually put in a complaint to the office and now he doesn't like his Jay-Z so loud...he likes his Jay-Z at a medium volume. Same with the Chingy, or whoever the frick he listens to. Regardless, I'm taking to calling him cuh-rappa tha rappa.
Well, since cuh-rappa no longer has his booty music to listen to loudly, tonight he tried out something new. You see, some ho' (or perhaps beeyotch) of his was accusing him of creepin' or something and he felt the need to shout back to her. A lot. It was a lot like that scene in Clueless where Dionne and Murray start arguing about him shaving his head...I think he even actually said "because i'm keepin' it real" a few times. I know he said "hode up, bitch" about fifteen times--comedy gold, let me tell you.
Some other highlights include:
cuh-rappa tha rappa: Bitch, I tode you I was at the mall!
Ho: mothafucka don't you be tellin' me where you wuz when I KNOW you were somewhere else, mothafucka! [Presumably at this point there is some saucy neck movement, but since I was just listening and not watching, I can only presume]
cuh-rappa tha rappa: w-w-w-w-w-w-w-w-w-w-w-w-ait a fuckin' minute, BITCH. Don't you be tryin' to tell me what I can and can't do
cuh-rappa tha rappa: Shut the fuck up, you goddamn fucking bitch c*nt ho !@#%^^%#&*$%$#&(&^(^@##!!!
It was at that point that he freaked the fuck out and started to yell. Really loud. And a lot. The unique combination of curse words was most impressive--and highly entertaining. I guess it was at that point that it stopped being fun and games Clueless style, and more of a domestic disturbance kind of vibe. Well, with less psychotic John Travolta...but you get the idea.
All in all, the whole tirade went on for a good hour. By far, it was the most entertaining thing I heard all day.
Inebriation
11 March, 2004 at 02:57 AM by Ren | Permalink
Hi. I'm drunk.
night!
WHEE!
...Our Only Hope
11 March, 2004 at 12:03 PM by Ren | Permalink
This morning, recovering from a mild alcohol-induced headache, I went to go pick up some brochures for the university since the printer just finished them. That meant that on my way to work this morning, I went a different way than I normally do.
On my way to work, right outside of Corpus Christi there's a big sign that's starting to rust proclaiming "JESUS: Our Only Hope."
I take question with that proclamation. Jesus is not our only hope. Jesus is our messiah. There's a difference. Obi-Wan Kenobi is our only hope. Princess Leia said so herself in Star Wars Episode IV: A New Hope.
I briefly fantasized that i'd have the gumption to go out put a sign next to the rusting Jesus sign that said "No. Jesus is our saviour. Obi-Wan is our only hope. Help us Obi-Wan, you're our only hope", except that I know I have no real bravery (just a body full of snark). My sign certainly would have a better design ethic. I wouldn't actually do it, though.
But I did think about it.
and now, The Twist
15 March, 2004 at 09:31 PM by Ren | Permalink
Remember, how the other day I was talking about my porn watching neighbor? Here's a twist:
It's not always porn. Last night, in between fitful bouts with unconsciousness, I heard a sound. It was creaking bedsprings. And a girl, moaning quite satisfiedly. +25 neighbor boy. Good job for taking care of your actual, breathing lady friend.
Then the headboard hit the wall a few times. +5 I thought to myself. Nothing like a good, deep dicking.
Finally, came (pun intended) the piece d'resistince. His frantic cries of sexual climax. +10 for sounding like a sensitive guy with the warning us all what lies ahead in our immediate futures. You go boy!
So what did I learn last night? I learned that my neighbor boy doens't always fuck his hand, sometimes he fucks a chick, and makes sure he takes care of her. Of course she could be faking. You never know with girls.
I also learned that the walls in my apartment complex are decidedly too thin. It's not like I'm putting my ear up to a glass and listening for this shit. Breeders aren't my bag, baby.
Snippets
18 March, 2004 at 10:28 AM by Ren | Permalink
Oh lawdy, lawdy, lawdy. I found this just a few minutes ago. You know, this county in Tennessee is just not the land of the best and brightest, is it?
Swiped off Mysti's blog:
Reality TV star/singer Jessica Simpson made one of her legendary gaffe's at the White House on Sunday (March 14) when she was introduced to Interior Secretary Gale Norton, reports the Washington Post. She told him, "You've done a nice job decorating the White House."
That is too much. Seriously Jessica, you're stupid.
Check out this headline: Love Canal Declared Clean, Ending Toxic Horror
Am I dirty for laughing when i see the phrase "Love Canal"? Does it make me a bad person that I think the story would be more humorous if it were about douching or enemas rather than the cleanup of a Superfund Site? Funny thing in the actual story though...the Love Canal site was created by the HOOKER Chemical Company. *sigh* I am too easily amused.
One last thing. Good times. I love avoiding near catastrophe and armagheddon.
Hope everyone had a great St. Patrick's day. More talk later!
Friday Five
19 March, 2004 at 09:49 AM by Ren | Permalink
Before I start on this morning's Friday Five, I thought I'd do a little housekeeping. My good friend Aaron, who has been known on this website by such lovely monikers as "La Aaron", "La Corn Chip" and the ever popular "Slim Jim" will henceforth be known as TNT, as He. Knows. Drama.
Right then. On to the Friday Five.
If you...
- owned a restaurant, what kind of food would you serve?
See, I'd say mexican, but I live in South Texas...and every restaurant serves mexican. So poo on that idea. Maybe I'd open up a restaurant that just served cold rice. Just like my mom lets me have whenever she makes rice. mmmmmmm cold rice. - owned a small store, what kind of merchandise would you sell?
I'm left-handed, so duh. a Leftorium! Except not really. I'd actually love to open up a bookstore or something similarly nerdy. Only because I did it, it would be cool. - wrote a book, what genre would it be?
Como Duh. A science fiction epic. Probably about a great interplanetary Republic is facing a threat from beyond the Gortari Nebula...a deadly new foe who call themselves the Vulgarians. Yeah, I've actually thought about that one. I'm a nerd. I'm also a huge design nerd, because I have insignias designed for the Republic and the Vulgarians. Wow, I'm a huge dork. - ran a school, what would you teach?
Music (doy) and Quantum Physics. Because they're very closely related you know. - recorded an album, what kind of music would be on it?
Just like the music I listen to, it would be a many-varied compilation. Some classical, a few marching band tunes and a lot of really bad (so bad it's good) pop music with a good beat you can dance to. Oh. And also there'd be a few tracks with a definite disco flavor and a big, black woman screaming about how we have to get down and dive into the pool and dance. or something. Because that's music you can dance to.
Hey, if ya get a chance, you guys should have a small moment of silence because one of MTV's original VJs, J.J. Jackson died on Wednesday. Tragic, indeed. It's now only a matter of time before we see Martha Quinn's obit.
On Plastic Penises and Dentucreme
22 March, 2004 at 09:46 AM by Ren | Permalink
I had this entry planned for late Saturday night, early Sunday morning. It was going to be this big tirade about how my patience is wearing thin, which it is, but then Saturday night turned out a lot better than I had expected so now I can write about that instead (you know, instead of riding the bitter bus again).
Before we get started I need to introduce two new characters that are integral to this entry: Eli is a good friend from way back, but I've never mentioned him on this thing because he's never been involved in one of the wacky sitcom episodes of my life. Since Eli has always been gentleman of wealth and taste, has a propensity for 'firing' members of our crew who are no longer to his liking, he is now the CEO. The other particular of this episode is a guy named Chicago. I honestly don't know his real name, as everyone calls him Chicago. He's very pretty, but rather naive` and a little slow. He's also got some American Idol hair goin' on, but it totally looks cute on him, so whatever.
Anyway, this episode takes place at the club. Chicago was right toasted and TNT and the CEO never miss an opportunity to pull a prank on someone. Seeing their chance, they devised their scheme. TNT and the CEO were going to make Chicago think the CEO was a transsexual.
It was brilliant. Utterly hilarious. Truly one of the most inspired conversations I had ever been a part of. Excerpts follow:
The CEO: Seriously. It's fake. It's plastic. You can feel it if you want
Chicago: no way, are you serious? (Looks incredulous)
TNT: For real, it's fake. I was there.
Chicago:No way. It's plastic?
The CEO Yeah. I can bump it up against things and I won't feel a thing. It's totally fake. I even have other ones for special occasions
Chicago: No way. It's not fake. You're making this up; you're a guy!
TNT: Yeah, but he used to be a girl. He just had the surgeons sew it all up.
The CEO: Yup. And I'm telling you. You can feel it if you want. It's totally fake.
Chicago: You're kidding. You guys are totally making this up.
The CEO: We're totally serious. (Chicago slowly moves his free hand to The CEO's crotch to feel, but suddenly gets cold feet and pulls away) You can feel if you want. You'll see it's plastic.
Chicago: How do you keep it on? (Chicago has a dumb smile, one that conveys skepticism, but also curiosity)
TNT: With Dentucreme (Ren spits out his drink, turns away and starts laughing) It bonds to the skin. That's how he holds it in place.
The CEO: Yeah, but sometimes when I go out, I don't even put it on. I mean, it's fake, so why bother?
TNT: Chicago, he even has one that screws on.
Ren: Just like Goldmember!
TNT and Ren: I LOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOVE GOLD!
After going at him for about an hour, Chicago is just drunk enough that he starts to buy the whole thing. I coudln't believe it. It was so funny. The look on his face; the way he finally petted the CEO's crotch to feel for himself. It was too classic. Finally, they caved and told him they were just pulling his leg.
Chicago: It did start to get hard. I could feel that.
The CEO: Of course it did. You were fondling it. How else was it supposed to respond? It's not made out of plastic, you know.
I don't think I ever laughed as hard at someone else's expense before. And trust me, I've laughed hard at other's expense before.
Break it down, one time
23 March, 2004 at 03:23 PM by Ren | Permalink
hee!
If you get me this AND Darrin's Dance Grooves, I'll be an unstoppable dancing machine!
Tidbits
27 March, 2004 at 06:52 PM by Ren | Permalink
I know, I know. You guys deserve a proper update on my glamourous life, but seriously, nothing interesting has happened this week.
I could write about the Coke fight my next door neighbor and his sometime girlfriend had (and the subsequent angry sex they had afterwards) or I could write about Cuh-Rappa-tha-Rappa and another altercation with his ho that took place in the parking lot this week, but I really can't stomach another post about those two at this time.
So instead, read about my second favorite method of consuming potatoes turning fifty, a children's book about a prince who meets his Prince Charming (yes, I said prince twice) and also the resurrection of Family Guy. Hooray!
That ought to keep you occupied until I get the energy to post something substancial.
Cheers.
Nu Shooz
29 March, 2004 at 11:33 AM by Ren | Permalink
No. not the one hit wonder from the mid-eighties, but a brand new pair of fabulous, GBX shoes I got this weekend!
Here's the 411:
Saturday afternoon I set out to Old Navy for a new belt and to see if Weezie Jefferson would dance the hustle with me. I wanted something canvas-ey to go with a pair of jeans i have. I found this awesome belt for $12 and a really cute long sleeved linen shirt too.
Not having satiated my desire for unabashed consumerism (I spent under $40 at Old Navy), I headed to Best Buy to drool over electronics that I cannot possibly afford. I priced some compact flash cards and realized I could get them cheaper at Best Buy than I could if I bought them along with my brand new digital camera. Realizing this, I left the store and walked next door to Hoe Carnival--it's actually called Shoe Carnival, but the "S" is never lit at night, so the store proudly announces itself as Hoe Carnival. Anyway, I walk in to see if I can find anything good for cheap, you know, because I'm a cheap bastard. Right, well, I'm wandering the aisles and am about to walk out depressed because there was no appropriately cute footwear and then I saw them. The last pair of them. They were even in my size (8 1/2 if you must know. And Yes. I'm aware that my feet are petite. Don't hate: congratulate). It was as though God himself stepped in and said "Let Ren have these cute shoes," because they were the only pair of them and in my size.
That never happens.
Even better, God thought I should get a deal on these shoes. They were marked at $59.99, but reduced for clearance at 24.99. "Shoo'", I thought to myself, "I gots to get these". So I picked them up, walked to the register and was ready to put them on my credit card when the girl rang them up and announced I owed her (get this) $12.99.
"Seriously?", I said to her, refusing to believe I just got a pair of GBX shoes for that cheap. She stared at me blankly, in that uncaring way that retail employees often look at you when they hate their job, then handed me a pen to write my check with. Clearly, conversation skills aren't her forte.
I shut the hell up, went along with sullen register girl and walked out of the store with this hot new pair of shoes.
KRYSTEN
31 March, 2004 at 08:47 AM by Ren | Permalink
Krysdol,
I'm leaving you a message here cuz I don't know your work schedule and whatnot. Sorry about missing your calls the last few days; I've had my phones turned off while I try to put a bunch of stuff on a website here. It sucks, but I don't need the distraction or I might lose my place.
Anyway, I'll probably have it off for the next few nights as I'm trying to make a ridiculous amount of PDFs. I'll try and give you a ring tonight...but I make no promises.
Just don't leave any messages that say "are you not picking up the phone when I call, or what?" because you of all people should know, that really pushes my buttons faster than not calling at all. : )
Love,
Ren