Wahmbulance!

AWK. WARD.

I HATE bumping in to ex-tv-boyfriends, Dear Reader.  Especially ones you've dumped like a hot rock, with nary a phone call, email, text, or even a Holly-Golightly-esque wave over the shoulder for explanation as you skip off with your NEW tv boyfriend, a taller, blonder, bader-boy version of him from a show with a LOT more hot sex in it 'cause it's on HBO, not CBS.

 

No, I do not enjoy that one bit, Dear Reader.  Especially if he's practically doing it with Jennifer Lopez right there in front of Forever XXI at The Grove.   It's UNCOMFORTABLE.

Oh, hey...!  (wohwohwoh sound of adults talking in Charlie Brown cartoons)

Thanks!  Yeah, you look great too....  (whoowoh woh?)

Oh, you know, the book is almost due... (woh woh woh) yeah... teaching... you know... busy busy... (wohwohwoh?)  Uh... yeah... freelancing, nothing permanent yet... I see you have some new stuff going on!  Jenny from the block!  Lead role!  (woh woh woh woh) Great!  Great!  Great!  Um!  And a series, huh?  Says bus posters and TIVO (fuck! fuck! fuck! now he knows tivo is still getting anything with his name!  FUCKFUCKFUCKFUCKFFUCK!!!!!)... and, uh, that Kate Bekinsale movie... over the summer?  (fuuuuuuck!)  (wohwohwoh?)  I, uh, didn't actually see it... well, I meant to, you know, but I really haven't seen anything in months, with the writing and all... (wohwohwoh?) Uh, oh, yeah, I did just get out of a movie - uh - it's seriously?  The first movie I've seen in MONTHS, no kidding, for real... really... eh...(wohwohwoh) ... well, not yet, I have SO much fall TV to catch up on... I didn't even know there was a new season of Hereos, heh...!  Totally have a lot to catch up on- saw you were in syndication on SyFy (fyyyyfuuuuuuuuuuuuuuck!!!!fuckfuckfuck!!!!) uh - that's really cool - it looks like everything's going really great for you!  Awesome!

interlude: crickets

So yeah!  This is your year, kid! (fuck!) Guy!  Your year, guy!  Awesome!  (wohwohwoh)  My year too, yes!  I totally believe that.  New beginnings!  Yes!  (cough)  (wohwohwoh) OK!  You too!  (wohwohwoh) Totally! (wohwohwoh) Uh...? (wohwohwoh) Wow, uh, I didn't know you knew him? (wohwohwoh) Uh huh... (wohwohwoh) Uh huh... (wohwohwoh) I will say hey for you ... (wohwohwoh) Oooookeyyyy dokey then. (wohwohwoh) Bye---

awkwardddddddddddd

x

holy. fucking. shit.

my student posted this and he will be shown excessive unfair favoritism directly!

As not yet seen on Cake Wrecks...

I love Cake Wrecks: When professional cakes go horribly, hilariously wrong.  If I had a job, I'd totally attract the wrong kind of attention at work while reading it.  Shooting Diet Coke out of your nose while laughing is hard to keep quiet, Dear Reader. 

So, now I check out the cake aisle at the store... if I ever go in one, that is, which is rare.  Because Pink Dot boys tend to be very cute, actually (except I use yummy.com but everyone knows what pink dot is so I'll just go with that plus it sounds funnier).  Um...I digress. 

So now I'm checking out the cake aisle at the store, and what do I find on my very first outing?

Why naught but The Moistestestest Cake EVER!

When Jen over at Cake Wrecks asks for submisions, her criteria include "... smeared frosting on a baked good... ."  I think this qualifies.  At first I got distracted and was generally discombobulated because they completely rebuilt the local grocery from the ground up and I wasn't exactly sure what I was looking at but.... this blewwwwwww myyyyyyy mindddddddddd echooooooo

OK, so I'm imagining the person in back looking at their work and thinking, "There you go, cake!  Here let me just get that for you...(licking forefinger in a mom-on-first-day-of-school-I-need-to-tame-this-cow-lick-fashion)...wipe wipe wipe... "Perfect!  Off you go!" 

Eh.

There were more than one of this particular design, by the way.  Pink AND red cowlick cakes could also be had!

All this cakey fun reminds me of the good old days back on the ranch.  Not THAT ranch, folks, the old Culver City homestead of yore.  I'd explain what my actual job* was there, but then your eyes would glaze over so I'll just say it's computer animation for like, Spider-Man type movies.  Exciting, glamorous?  No, trained monkeys could do our department's* job:

(There were a bunch of Feb(moi)/March birthdays.)  The birthday cake buyin' person in or midst actually asked for a Wreck before it was cool.  Also, it's Kosher!  It took her a long time to convince them to actually do this, apparently ("Make it weird.").  I think it turned out nice.  I still have one of those plastic monkeys somewhere, along with the Baby J from a King Cake I nearly choked on the same year.  Happy Birthday to me, February Girl!

In related cakeology, did you know you can't get Carvel Fudgie the Whale cakes in California? 

For the Dear Uninitiated Reader, Fudgie the Whale is Carvel's traditional Father's Day offering, and is in fact a repurposing of the Santa Claus cake mold used for the holidays.  Which makes it already super awesome.  Awesomer still is the traditional inscription:  "To a Whale of a Dad."  Man, I miss those commercials.

Anyway, I had to order this one from New Rochelle, NY and overnight it in dry ice to Culver City:

It says "To a Whale of a Match Mover." 

Um.... ok, so matchmoving* is animating cameras in the computer... don't worry about it.

The person for whom this cake was ordered got the nickname Fudgie because he most cruelly misled us into thinking there was ice cream cake in the kitchen one time, to MUCH GENERAL DISMAY.  BAD FUDGIE. 

However, since even supervisors call him Fudgie now, I believe my revenge is had.  And it was definitely served ice cold.

The fun part was talking to the guy at Carvel in New Rochelle about the inscription: "Matchmover."  "Match what?"  "Match MOVER, like Match, M-O-V-E-R."  "Is that one word?"  "Sure."  "Two words?"  "I've seen it both ways, actually.  One word is good."  "(pause) ... what does that MEAN?"  Finally I had to email it to him.  He was a great sport.  I guess he eventually decided two words was best.

So Cake Wrecks is now part of my daily four step program of avoiding the reality of the job search/being a professional author.  Sorry, five steps now, since I've added obsessing about Eric on True Blood.  He's not even my type, Dear Reader.  Well, he's an asshole so actually I guess he is.  But he is SO HOT FOR ME!  Lucky for Sookie.

wow, just wasted the whole day, good job, me!
x

*so, if you really care what matchmove is (few do):  imagine a movie with a fully digital character, like Stuart Little.  (Stuart's fake!  Don't tell!)  Say there's a shot where Stuart is talking to his mom and Dad and they are all in the frame like this:

So, obviously, there is a live action shoot with Geena and House.  Later on, the film from that shoot is scanned and digitized so that it can be manipulated in the computer.  If you've ever seen a "Making of" thing on TV, you know we have all this software, so what happens is, trained monkeys create a virtual camera in 3D space that matches the real life camera, its position, lens, and movement, etc.  Match...move.  Asleep yet?  It's computer animation for movies and stuff.

Commercials I HATE: FreeCreditReport.com

Firstly, Dear Reader, I apologize for planting that earworm on you.  I'm so full of hate for this series of spots, though; I simply WILL NOT BE SILENCED.

FreeCreditReport.com, first of all, performs a dubious service: getting your credit report.  You can do that at all three of the major credit reporting agencies, for free, once a year.  A good tip I got from my Mom, of all people, is to request one report every four months from one of the three; that way you're getting your free report three times a year instead of once, the easier to keep track of that sort of thing.  If you care, or DARE, of course.  I don't.  Dare, that is.

The point is, FreeCreditReport.com is a scam to get you to pay for “credit monitoring,” or whatever.  So first of all, screw you, FreeCreditReport.com!

But on to the real hate:  The Spots.

I hate every single one of them, and if you will, I would like to enumerate the ways:

PIRATE SPOT:
The spot that started it all, y’all.

HATE!  First of all, how does having your identity stolen preclude you from landing a job?  It seems to me, in this day and age, if you're in the market for the kind of job that actually requires a credit check, your future employers would most likely know how to read one, and therefore be able to detect a stolen identity.  Hate.

Secondly: Does anyone believe these chumps would be up for a job of that variety anyway?  I thought not.   I never had my credit checked when I worked at the mall.  The bass player is sort of cute- naturally I think so, because I only go for losers- but the Main Guy?  What a choad.  I wouldn't hire him and his smirky ass if he were the last dish washer on earth.  I sure as hell wouldn't put him in the front of the house.

Good things about this spot: The song's timing isn't completely messed up, as some of the others are.  Also, I like the little old lady and the way she holds her hands.  Reminds me of my Mom's people in Virginia.  Overall, I didn't start out wanting to shoot myself in the head every time this one came on; that would change.

Next up: DREAM GIRL
The spot that filled me to the rim with grim.

This spot caused a flurry of hate in a networking group to which I belong: IS HE SAYING HE WOULDN’T MARRY HER IF HE KNEW SHE HAD BAD CREDIT???????  Yeah, he is.  Again, I ask you, Dear Reader:  Does this look like a guy you'd allow to buy a home - especially traveling with this loser posse?  Cute bass player or no, Main Guy’s got some mucho huevos complaining about his wife’s credit.  Besides, credit defaults are expunged from your record after seven years.  So if it's really an "old credit card,” all he needs to do is sit down and shut the fuck up for a year or two.  "Happy bachelor with a dog and a yard," indeed... more like "Bitch ass loser who sucks really hard."  Sing along, Dear Reader!  I have a feeling she should have checked HIS credit.  At the very least, to see if he could afford a divorce (or preferably, an annulment).  Haaaaaaaate.

Good things about this spot:  She looks like she could kick all their asses, and is going to in about five seconds.  Also, they have a washer and dryer right off the living room!  That's so convenient.  I'm jealous.

Next up:  NEW CAR
The spot that filled me so full of hate I just can't contemplate.

I will admit, Dear Reader, that up until just now I thought the lyric was

Now instead of looking fly
I'M rolling phat

Which of course is WRONG WRONG WRONG, and makes me think the client must be completely insane, out of touch, and one of those people who INSISTS on language of Kids These Days.  PHAT IS GOOD, idiots.  It means good.  GOOD.

Either that, or Main Guy is worried about his obvious weight gain since the Pirate Spot.

On review of the posted lyrics, however, I see it's actually (or so the lyrics submitted by the band claim)

Now instead of looking fly
AND rolling phat

Which makes more sense.  It still pisses me off, though.  Especially since I now discover that not only is there a HUGE following for these nuggets on YouTube, including all kinds of posts with helpful lyrics, the pointing out of Pirate Hats, and a CONTEST FOR BANDS TO COVER ONE OF THE SPOTS with pretty big cash prizes (actually, the winner, a ska band, is pretty good, and should be hired IMMEDIATELY), but these PHATholes actually have their own website.

HAAAAAAAAAAAAAAATE.

And of course, the obvious question:  If you had the choice of keeping your current car or driving off the lot with the POS in the spot, WHY WOULD YOU TAKE THE POS???  Especially since you could probably clear the whole thing up and then come back and get the car you want.  Oh wait, I forgot:  Main Guy is a looser and probably couldn't do any better with a 750.

Good things about this spot:  The girls who mock them on the street totally ROCK.  I love Mean Girls, and these girls are WORKING IT.  So Awesome.

And the Drummer has a keytar.  Sweet.  He's turning out to be kinda cute too - fuck, there I go again.

Next up: BICYCLE
When I started avoiding these spots like Plague in The Hague.  (Shut up.  It rhymes.  Also, I'm sure an outbreak of Black Death in The Hague, international center for Criminal Courts, Tribunals, and a stopovers on the way to Amsterdam, would be BAD.  Didn't you see Blood Diamond?)

I don't actually know this one by heart, thanks to Pete, my TIVO, and his amazing FF skilzz. While I tend to watch commercials over and over, love or hate, this is where FreeCreditReport.com and I broke up.

Obvious question:  Bike shops check your credit?  What the hell kind of bike are you trying to buy, Main Guy?  You're seriously trying to finance a BIKE?  Unless you're Lance Armstrong, you don't need a bike that requires financing.  And you are OBVIOUSLY no Lance Armstrong, sir.  You can't handle that much bike.

Also, note to Cute Drummer:  Get a haircut; you were much hotter with it short.  DAMMIT!!!!

Good things about this spot:  I don't know it by heart, so it rarely haunts me in my dreams.  Also, the little old lady is back as a street crossing guard, and has a MAJOR hate on for Head Loser.  I think she suspects he's selling himself a little large as well.  Either that, or she's mad at herself for stopping traffic instead of ushering through a rogue SUV to put us out of our misery.

Next up:  ROCK STAR

Wait for the hate.

I will begrudgingly admit that this spot has a good beat and you can dance to it.  But that's IT.

How are you flummoxed in your pursuit of RockStardom (more like RapStardom, but let's leave that for a second) if someone else opens a credit card with your ID?  Does it mean you can't afford payola?  I'm pretty sure RICO violators everywhere prefer cash.

Maybe he needs to throw big gangsta parties to be a rock star - you know, kind of like a Rappin' Castin' Couch - and needs to put them on his Black Amex?  Damn!  I bet Vincent Chase stole his ID - that would explain why he had to move back in with his mom last year.

Also:  Cater Waiters are usually hot, or at least don’t show up looking like they’re gonna eat everything before it goes out; I’m just saying, Jabba.  Go home and iron your damn shirt.

Good things about this spot:  Hm.  Well, it has a good beat and you can dance to it, as previously mentioned.  And.  Well, the drummer looks like a Geico Caveman, and I LOVE those spots.

Next up:  RENFAIRE
It’s faire to say this spot is a hate buffet.  Make way!

I will admit to watching Merlin, Dear Reader.  Admitting that, however, doesn’t even come near to admitting I’ve been to a Renaissance Faire (I have NOT) – which I guess is the point, I mean, I get it, they’re reduced to playing the RenFaire.  Fine.  I have a feeling, though, that some of the more in-character folks at the Faire would immediately kick these guys’ asses for breaking character, and that’s something I’d PAY to see.  I wouldn’t pay it to FreeCreditReport.com, though, you may be assured.

Here we have a big problem with the lyrics:  There is a line that’s too long, doesn’t fit, and is STUPID.

Thought I'd move to a place where my credit could stink and nobody would care
I just wish that somebody had told me that place was a Renaissance Fair!

Replace “somebody” with “someone,” and you don’t have to stumble over the line.   Or dump the “just.”  Or have someone who actually writes lyrics (unlike me) JUST MAKE IT WORK.

This is the BEST take they have?  Someone should have noticed it’s WRONG WRONG WRONG.  Insane client or inept direction?  You be the judge.

I get that there are running jokes in this series – none of which are funny, so much – but the little old lady doesn’t get the job done here.  I’d much prefer the guys from ROCKSTAR did a drive-by.  Two birds, one stone… kill the Guys, close the RenFaire.  I LIKE, Dear Reader.  LIIIIIIIIIKE.

Good things about this spot:  Chicken’s eye view of another chicken.  I like chickens.  Also, there are goats.  They make me laugh.  Not so much that I don’t want to kill, kill, KILL, but they’re good just the same.  Goats eat all kinds of wacky stuff, so maybe he’ll eat their instruments – and their STILL BEATING HEARTS.  LIKE!

Next up:  ROLLERCOASTER

Just when you thought it was safe to watch TV again, here comes a new spot in the ad campaign.

GET.  A.  HAIRCUT.  FATBOY.

This spot is hot off the presses – and when I say hot I mean VOMMIT – as The Guys point out in the song.  It does indeed make me want to hurl.  And not just because I have recurring nightmares about having to get to your gate at the airport via rollercoaster, due to a childhood trauma too long to go into here.

This ditty again features awkward phrasing that could be fixed so very simply.

Buckle up everybody cause were taking a ride
It can strain your relationships and hurt your pride

Actually, this works on the page, but not so much in the spot.  And again, this is the best take you got, commercial?  Did they kick you out of the ADR stage early?  Maybe the credit card they booked the session with got stolen or something.

And my favorite:

Then bring em right back to where your laptops at.
Log on to freecreditreport.com, stat  

No.  No.  No.  Wrong.  That’s about (counting on fingers) 800 syllables too many, there.  Also, there are so many things that rhyme with “at:”  “(beat me to death with a) baseball bat,” “(please banish me to) South Platte,” or… wait for it… PIRATE HAT.  Come on, commercial, seriously?  Were you too tired to write a decent song because you were up late reviewing your credit report?  Those things are really LONG, you know.  It could keep you up at night, much like my hatred of these spots.

Good things about this spot:  Drummer got a haircut and is looking somewhat fine.  Argh!!!  Good t-shirt as well.  Also, the idea that these doofs had to ride a rollercoaster more than once through (I seriously have those nightmares – and I seriously HATE rollercoasters) makes me happy.  Of course, maybe they didn’t, since the repo guys maybe came for the cameras before the shoot was over, as evidenced by the lack of good takes.  Of course, that would make me happy too.

In Conclusion:  Electromagnetic intrusion.

That’s right, Dear Reader.  This campaign intrudes on me electromagnetically, and I think you know what I mean. 

I mean through the TV.  And also the air, when and if I go outside.  AND IN MY NIGHTMARES.  (Seriously, that airport/rollercoaster dream is real.  Magnetically real.)

And now I hate even more, Dear Reader.  Why?  In researching this piece for you, my beloved audience, I was shocked to find how many people LOVE THESE SPOTS.  There are fansites.  YouTube love letters.  FANS ON FACEBOOK.

Lord.

Please please please, networks, don’t give these guys their own show like you did for the Cavemen.  Then there really will be a driveby – if I can mange to charge any weaponry on my Visa, that is.

f-r-e-e, that spells free,
but not to any tolerable degree
X

Oh yes we DID!!!

¡CLÁRO que sí nos podemos!!!

And it's only 9:30, DAMN! 

WHOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

finally a president i can have a crush on!
x

SPOTTED:

At the corner of Frank Gehry and Activision, a certain MoCap actor, in full regalia, including skin tight shiny black leotard, ping pong balls (your joke here) and maybe a little more MoCap actor than one might like to see stuffed into said skin tight shiny black leotard, smoking a big fattie and yapping on his cell phone.

Well, a big fat ciggie butt, anyway.  That CAN'T be good for martial arts gaming hoo-ha or whatever all goes on in nondescript building number two over there!  THINK OF THE CHILDREN, MoCap guy!

you know you love me! xoxo,
gossip x

Nerd Town just ain't what it used to be.

Nerditry, like single serve whole milk yogurt and good breeding, is becoming harder and harder to find, Dear Reader.

Consider, if you will, the .sig file.

Long a friend of the thoughtful, movie quoting, perhaps even politically minded nerd, the .sig (non nerd Americans, please pronounce "dot sig") file has evolved from a hidden text file directing your e-mail program to add your name, phone number, and REDONKULUS Joel Robinsonism to the end of your every electronic missive to a... well, non-hidden, can-be-named-whatever file that doesn't seem to need to be a text file these days either.

Who can keep up?

Attempting to do just that, as the modern girl does, Dear Reader, I asked the guy sitting next to me: "What's the best way to format your .sig here?" 

"A what?"

"Dot sig?"

"Uh...."

Well, maybe he isn't really nerdy - I definitely heard him being confused about file formats earlier in the day - so I asked a couple of other coworkers.  With the same results!

How do you get into VFX not knowing what a .sig is?  Where do these people come from?  How did they get in the building?  WHO ARE THE AD WIZARDS?

What I truly fear, Dear Reader, is that the real question is, "How old do you have to be to remember a .sig file, anyway, DAAAAAYMN?"

Except that for TRUE nerds, you're never too old to forget nerd arcana.  So ha ha on YOU, non-nerd non-losers who sit nearish to me!  HA HA indeed! Victory is, indeed, sweet.  So I've heard.

mlle x  |  movie i'm working on  |  phone number with one digit off so you can't actually call me
"Uh, Torgo, I wouldn't burn any bridges if I were you."  - Joel Robinson

WAIT A MINUTE...

Wait just one darn second.

Uh huh.

Sure.  Got it.  All makes sense.  Doo doo doo.

Wait...

Who....?

Wha...?

I... uh... uh....

**klunk**

wha happen?
x

Everyone Hates Rami!

Much as kindred spirits The Fug Girls occasionally allow Intern George to answer their mail, Dear Reader, my feline friend Harper, Duchess of West Hollywood, recently pitched an intriguing idea for an article, and I let her run with it, it being a topic dear to my shrunken, black, tarry heart... and yours too, I suspect, with delight.

So, without further ado, I present "Why Rami Suk" by Harper, Duchess of West Hollywood, etc.

ps klik pikchers to make more big and awezum kthx

 

Thank you Harper, I think you've summed up the feelings of a nation (and Nina Garcia) quite nicely.

please note though she doles out legal advice right and left, harper is not in fact registered to practice law in california.
x