well said!

That Super Cute Quirky Girl From that Movie

Fellas: we’ve got some bad news for you. The adorable female lead from your favorite quirky movie would be an obnoxious maniac if she were a real person. If we have to see one more movie where Natalie Portman or Zooey Deschanel play delicate little quirkmuffins, we’ll probably enjoy it, buy the DVD, and start a Facebook group about it. BUT THEN we’d realize that those girls don’t exist in reality, and their closest real world approximations are usually total basket cases with daddy issues and a purse full of meds. Allow us to break the illusion for you and show you how shit would go down, real world vs. movie world.

Movie World: Super cute quirky girl (SCQG) puts headphones on you and plays you a song that melts your little heart.
Real World: You’ve already heard the song, and you pretend to be impressed. However, she can see through it and gives you the silent treatment for the rest of the day.

Movie World: SCQG tells you that you two are going for a ride. When you ask her where you’re going, she puts a blindfold on you and says, “it’s a secret.” Then the two of you sneak into the natural history museum after hours and make out in the dinosaur room.
Real World: The secret place she takes you to is her coke dealer’s house, and he makes you watch mildly pornographic movies where women fight each other.

Movie World: Cute girl invites you over to make a pillow fort. You two spend the evening eating s’mores under blankets and playing records, and then she dares you to kiss her!
Real World: Same scenario, but replace all the fun stuff with: the pillow fort reminds her of a traumatic childhood experience that she refuses to explain. You spend the rest of the night asking her, “What’s wrong,” and offering her tissues.

Movie World: After an intense shared experience, super cute quirky girl cuts all of her hair off in an adorable pixie cut and begins speaking with a british accent because she’s “starting over.”
Real World: After chasing xanax and vicodin with a bottle of red wine, she shaves her head unevenly and passes out at your cousin’s wedding.

Movie World: Your artsy, adorable crush constructs a scavenger hunt for you with step by step instructions. You have to take a picture of a smiling baby, find a cloud that looks like a sleeping lion, and release 5 balloons into the air. The final step of the scavenger hunt takes you to a rooftop, where she got your favorite indie band plays a private concert for the two of you.
Real World: She kills herself.

There it is, guys. Quirky and adorable movie girls may not exist in real life, but look at it this way, at least it’s been five years and Zach Braff still hasn’t made another movie.

(originally posted here on our Funny or Die page. Resurrected in honor of a certain just released movie)

Well, today was… interesting.

I was sad all day long. The first communication I had with another person today was Alexis telling me that Farrah Fawcett was dead and that Michael Jackson was nearly dead. I was talking to one of my co-workers tonight about what it’s like to work a night job and wake up to a full day of news and he basically sumed it up by saying “I woke up and Michael Jackson was dead.” Yeah. It feels like the whole world is living (or not living) without you sometimes.

And then, ya know… I don’t know. I don’t know if it ever really occured to me that Michael Jackson would ever actually die. It was like Anna Nicole’s death in that you know it’s going to happen probably sooner rather than later, but when it actually does happen it’s as if the thought never even crossed your mind. I think I finally realized today that I get upset when celebrities I enjoy die because I’ve never really had to live my life without them. It’s like a piece of furniture in your grandmother’s house or something. It’s just there and you maybe don’t even notice its beauty or quality that often. And then one day it gets sold or moved or destroyed and all of a sudden it’s not there and you don’t know why but for some reason it kind of crushes you.

What is really killing me about this whole thing as well is that Ed, Farrah, Michael… all three of them spent the last years of their lives in the headlines for shitty things that tore apart their reputation or changed what people thought of them. Wether it was their fault or not, let’s think about how much worse someone’s health and emotional problems would get if they had to face everyday feeling like the world was against them, having gossips tear them apart and make light of what was likely an increddibly tragic thing for them. Honestly, I don’t think my heart could take that at all.

I know that a lot of people hate Michael Jackson for the things he did or was accused of (and they are horrible and wrong things and my usage of parentheses is not meant to make this an aside as much as I think we all know that I’m not pro-child molestation or endangerment), but let’s remember that he was an abused child himself. He spent the first handful of years of his life being beaten behind closed doors and then going out on stage and performing for the world. That’s not a flat-out excuse for his behavior by any means, but I think it’s something worth considering.

I’m ashamed it wasn’t the situation in Iran or something else that’s a reflection of my intelligence, but today broke my heart. I just felt really sad for the whole world. And then I’d find myself singing “PYT” in my head and then I’d start bawling behind my desk. People were crying in their cars today all over LA. It just sucks. Everything kind of sucks right now and we really have to do something about it.

The only thing I’ve done so far is make this necklace I’m wearing and wrote this blog entry. But after I finish the freelance project I’m about to start and get my 3-5 hours of sleep before I wake up and have to try and call the Massachusetts RMV again I’ll find some time to start saving the world or something. I don’t know. It’s hard.

realrealsoft:

On Posh & Becks: “The Beckhams are sickening. Everyone knows Victoria is a monster. I’d rather shoot myself between the eyes than be a WAG.”
On Cheryl Cole: “She is just a bitch. She represents everything I hate. She is stupid, superficial and as ugly outside as inside.”
On Chery’s husband Ashley: “He is the worst, he disgusts me. He jumps on everything that moves. I am not criticizing just to criticize, but I have met him several times. He is revolting.”
On footballers in general: “It’s ridiculous, I hate it. Footballers aren’t there to show off in London, but to play football. Mind you, they are probably too stupid to understand that. Especially the English ones.”

fatmanatee:

Last week, I went for a haircut and got the free shampoo treatment.  I love this part, because they massage my head and pick the perfect water temperature to wash away all the excess hair with.  I’d probably pay $5 just to come in occasionally and have that done.

Anyway, they’ve been using mint shampoo lately, and although it’s refreshing, I’m pretty sure everyone else thinks I have breath mints stuck in my hair that day, leading to a conversation like this:

Someone else: hey man, I think ummm… you have something in your hair.  Maybe gum?
Me: What?  No, no, I don’t think so.  Where?
Someone else: I dunno, something’s up though…
Me: How can you tell?
Someone else: I can smell it. 

And then they’ll act like they’re checking my hair for lice, except they’ll be looking for Tic-Tacs.

whatcriscilikes:

Every time I go home to Connecticut, I end up posting pictures of myself with various family dogs. Take it or leave it, I enjoy the self reflection and silence that comes over me when I spend alone time with the rainbow of Crisci canines. 

I usually sneak away from the crowd of relatives, to find the pup that has done the same.  In this Easter edition of Crisci Canines, I introduce Bear - the 150lb German Sheppard. 

Bear likes to run at Calf Pasture Beach down the road, he enjoys sunbathing on his porch in East Norwalk, and there is nothing more satisfying than a nice long drink from his titanium water bowl.

As far as his dislikes, let me preface them by saying that Bear is the fur and blood reincarnation of Steinbeck’s gentle giant, Lennie from Of Mice and Men.  Over grown and an almost swollen version of what he was intended to  be, his innocence is overshadowed by his strength.  Much like Lennie, Bear’s life is expected to be shortened - German Sheppard’s this gargantuan don’t usually reach 10 years of age.

Bear is staying strong at 6 though; just make sure you don’t bring him around mailmen or felines.  One summer afternoon, the heat was too much for Bear, so when the mailman came around, he just wasn’t in the right state of mind to handle it, so he lunged through two layers of glass to chase him down the street.  The mailbox is down the road now.

As for cats, let’s just say that the family house cat won’t be clawing at Bear any longer; he put that pussy to bed.