Why isn't 'Batgirl' a valid career choice?

Yeah, you read that right.

So, tonight at the grocery store, I'm pursuing the Ben and Jerry's for something that looks good.  It was 2 for $7...so obviously I had to buy 2.  That's how it works.  Duh.

I grabbed a pint of Stephen Colbert's Americone Dream and then started searching for Brownie Batter.  And was disappointed, since they DIDN'T HAVE ANY.

And then?  Then I saw it.

ONE Cheesecake Brownie ice cream.

I'm supposed to resist that?

It's cheesecake ice cream with bits of cheesecake swirled brownies in it.  Plus, it's in support of the One Campaign to eliminate poverty.  So, I"m doing a good deed.  It felt good.

But would it taste good?



First it sat there.  Looking...well, mostly looking like a pint of Ben and Jerry's.



I dug in.  With a REAL SPOON!  I have those now!  (This is a big deal)


IT'S GOOD!!!!!!!!!

Anyway, highly recommend it.  Tastes fantastic!  Or as I told Bree over IM:

...yeah.
...YEAH!

Today is ♥Ryland♥'s Birthday.






♥Ryland♥, I'm sorry to say all I can afford to give you this year is my love.

Next year: a gold fiddle won in a contest with the Devil.  Because I'm willing to bet Dave Navarro isn't that great with a violin.



PLEASE LEAVE YOUR BIRTHDAY WISHES FOR ♥RYLAND♥ HERE.  I CAN GUARANTEE YOU THAT HE WON'T SEE THEM :)

Okay, okay, so I KNOW I promised a PETA rant today, but I found something else I'd rather blog about.  Something kinda funny and less likely to get me attacked by rabid PETA supporters.

from News of the Weird:



...so my question is, why am I not cashing in on this sort of stuff?

For those of you who don't know, I am/was an aspiring novelist.  I went to college to learn how to be a writer.  And now, my writing is pretty much, well...you're reading it.  Don't get me wrong, I've got some graphic novel work going on (and plans to submit it somewhere this fall) but I'm not exactly a world famous published author, affecting millions of young women with my works about...stuff.  And the other part of my degree, the part where I was taught to analyze literature for what it says about the author, the audience, and the prevailing attitudes of the time and place it was written/became popular?  Well, apparently that doesn't really exist, as there's no point in doing any of that.  Ever.

So, who the hell can I sue for this?

I mean, let's face it!  If it weren't for my college beating into my head that real literary works were the goal of every writer, they wouldn't have given me a complex that causes me to be UNABLE TO WRITE ANYTHING for publication!  So I can TOTALLY sue the University of Pittsburgh for their Fiction Department being made up of massive douchebags*.

*With the exception of Chuck Kinder.  That guy is fucking AWESOME.

**but without excepting my douchebag Intro to Fiction Teacher, who nearly destroyed my will to write and seemed incapable of talking to female student's faces.  He's now teaching at an all girl's college, which horrifies me. 

Frivolous lawsuits: Now Working for Liberal Arts Majors!

So there's this album I've been spinning for days called Pretty.  Odd.  Maybe you've heard of it around the site.

Now, I've seen good reviews and bad reviews and mediocre reviews and people getting on their high horses about "OMG NOT ENOUGH LIKE A FEVER YOU CAN'T SWEAT OUT!" and "TOO MUCH LIKE THE BEATLES NOBODY CAN EVER TRY TO SOUND LIKE THEM!!!"  But most of those people have at least done their research.

I've made mistakes in my stuff.  There was a blog I won't link to because I don't want to start THAT again, but let's basically say I misspelled an author's name and mentioned characters having fangs when they didn't really have fangs and that somehow invalidated every bit of literary theory and psychological intent in my blog.  Which, you know, whatever.  I'd never intended to draw attention to that blog and yet people were glad to show up from all over telling me I'm an idiot and I can't spell...when they themselves apparently didn't understand the concept of spell check.  But hey, what do I know, I'm not as well read as an angry 16 year old, apparently.

*lights my B.A. on fire, since it's apparently useless*

AWAY FROM THAT RANT:

But it's not like I was trying to have too many people take that bit seriously.  I wasn't trying to focus on minutia, I was trying to look at a broader picture.  So, a few facts got left behind while I wrote in extreme anger.  But when you're going to nitpick at things, really, like people's musical influence in an album review?  You should PROBABLY research the band, first.

Case in point.

So, here's a few NITPICK sort of things about this review:

1) Brendon Urie grew up on The Beatles and knew their music.  Ryan Ross was the one who hadn't listened to them before working on Pretty.  Odd.
2) If you really don't think Pretty.  Odd. is a departure from Panic's previous musical style?  I'm going to assume you never listened to A Fever You Can't Sweat Out.
3) If you can't hear the Beatles influence on Pretty.  Odd.  I'm going to assume you have never listened to The Beatles.
4) There are actually Panic fans who are over the age of 15.  We exist.  In larger numbers than you think.
5) The idea of "parody" implies that what you're writing will be...you know...funny?

In closing, I think I've written a more accurate review of an album that I haven't even heard.

Okay, so it's still early spring, and it's still very cold here in Pittsburgh, but after a shitty morning I decided to head to Starbucks. 
And on a whim, I ordered my summer drink.  A Green Tea frappuccino.



Granted, it doesn't provide the same burst of caffeine as a good latte.  And I do keep meaning to try the honey lattes at some point.  But the Green Tea Frap is MY summer drink.  I mean, look at it.  It's like some kind of fucked up frozen Sci-Fi indulgence.  And it tastes fantastic.  Though I've taken to ordering it sans-whipped cream.

And what else do I discover?  Starbucks has brought back the pineapple-mango empanda!

Mmmmm...tasty!

There's really no point in this entry other than it being part of my "OMFG SUMMER, HURRY UP!" stuff. 

What are your summer food and drink indulgences?  Is there something you can only eat or drink during the summer or else it feels wrong?  Or am I just a freak?

Rock Band just not cutting it for you anymore?  You want a REAL rock and roll experience?

Well then, my friend, you are in luck!  Because the Rock and Roll Fantasy Camp is on tour this summer.




Packages start at $2,000 for a day camp experience in one of the cities they're visiting.  And for that price, you get to work with counselors like:

• Gilby Clarke (Guns N’ Roses)
• Earl Slick (David Bowie/John Lennon)
• Dave Ellefson (former Megadeth bassist)
• Glen Hughes (Deep Purple)
• Chris Slade (AC/DC, The Firm with Jimmy Page)
• Mark Slaughter (Slaughter)
• Mark Hudson (Aerosmith, Grammy Award wining writer/producer)
• Kip Winger (Winger)

Check out the website for more information and a chance to sign up, if you've got the guts and the cash.  And let's face it, rock and roll is all about the guts and the cash.

CITIES ON THE 2008 TOUR:

Available Dates		Performance Venue
July 8	New York, NY	The Fillmore at Irving Plaza
July 9	Boston, MA	Paradise
July 11	Albany/Buffalo	The Egg
July 12	Toronto, CAN	Toronto Guvernment
July 14	Philadelphia, PA	The Fillmore at TLA
July 15	Baltimore, MD	Ram's Head
July 17	Cleveland, OH	House of Blues
July 18	Detroit, MI	TBA
July 19	Chicago, IL	House of Blues
July 20	Minneapolis, MN	The Myth
July 22	St. Louis, MO	The Pageant
July 24	Myrtle Beach, SC	House of Blues
July 26	Orlando, FL	House of Blues
July 27	Ft. Lauderdale, FL	Revolution
July 29	New Orleans, LA	House of Blues (ages 18+ only)
July 31	Houston, TX	Meridian/Club V
August 1	Dallas, TX	House of Blues
August 3	Denver, CO	TBA
August 4	Salt Lake City, UT	TBA
August 5	Phoenix, AZ	Celebrity
August 6	San Diego, CA	House of Blues
August 8	Los Angeles	House of Blues
August 9	Las Vegas	Hard Rock
August 10	San Francisco, CA	The Filmore
August 12	Portland, OR	TBA
August 13	Seattle, WA	TBA

* All dates and venues subject to change. More Tour Dates TBA.

When our society is long gone, and archaeologists are recreating our day to day lives, I like to believe they will assume that bloggers were worshiped as gods.  Bree will be the Goddess of Fabulousness, DJ Rossstar will be the God of Mediocre But Enjoyable College Music, OunceofWentz will be the God of Pure Glee and Mark will of course be King of the Gods and also God of Vegans Who Can Fuck Your Shit Up.

And me?  I'd like to be Goddess of Snarky Bitches.


I declare this to be my holy symbol!  Or something.

Really, there is a divine art to being a bitch.  It's walking a balance between being a push over and being utterly unbearable.  You tread on a fine line, and you do it all with grace and a pair of fuck me boots.

This morning I watched as a girl was pestered by a man old enough to be her father the entire time we were on a bus together.  This girl was just trying to listen to her iPod when the man started inquiring about the technology.  Then, he went on to ask "Do you have any hip-hop on that thing?"  When she said "not really," his immediate reaction was "So, you've got a lot of country and western, then?"

...and my bitch senses kick in, because honestly, you assume that just because a person is white they're into country and western?  Especially when this conversation is taking place on a bus in the middle of an urban area north of the Mason Dixon line?  Don't get me wrong, I've got some Big and Rich and Kid Rock on my iPod, but it's buried beneath my massive amounts of My Chem.

And this girl continues to talk to the guy, even when he's asking questions about:

-are you gonna get married?
-where do you live?
-you plan on having kids one day?

And my bitch urge to scream 'OH MY GOD, SHE'S NOT INTERESTED, SHUT UP!' is overwhelming by the time I step off the bus.

So why didn't I?

Because, as a Goddess, I believe in helping those who help themselves.  Meaning, I was waiting for this girl to just put the other headphone back in, turn up the Pearl Jam she was listening to, and blow this guy off.  Yes, it would have been a bitch thing to do.

But the guy was being an asshole and asking questions he didn't have a right to after knowing this girl for all of five minutes. And really, when he's being an asshole?  You be a bitch.  Don't apologize, don't regret it, just be a bitch.

And that's a general message.  There comes a time in every woman's life where she finds the need to be a bitch.

So, I heard a rumor that, despite the recent positive reviews of Pretty.  Odd.,  things in Panic at the Disco are actually Pretty.  Tense.  I'm not going to say the band is on the verge of breaking up or anything, but there MIGHT BE the possibility that one of the members feels pushed to the outside by the other three and that he might be considering taking his toys (and considerable talent) and going home.

Or more precisely, going to the studio to begin a solo project, that would potentially be currently slated for a 2009 release.


One of these things is not like the others...

I heard a rumor that a certain fanged frontman has been caught hooking up with a label mate.  Apparently the booty shaking balladeer is into the sort of woman who will occasionally tell him to "just hush."


He likes 'em multitalented and young.

I heard a rumor that Ashlee Simpson isn't just borrowing people from Pete's label from her album.  It's possible the pop princess and her bi-curious boy have a third party who occasionally joins in on their "private" fun.  And since he's been through some rough shit lately, they've been doing whatever they can to comfort the guy, since they consider him some kind of hero.


His favorite Simpson?  Not really a contest, right?

I heard a rumor that you probably shouldn't believe everything you read in internet blogs.

So apparently this morning, host Brian Kilmeade walked off the set of "Fox and Friends" during a debate about Barrack Obama's speech this past week.  Kilmeade's departure was accompanied by the shrew-like taunts of Gretchen Carlson, who I have now decided is on the "people I will some day punch in the mouth" list.




Later, Chris Wallace tried to settle/continue the debate, and called this morning's "Fox and Friends" "two hours of Obama bashing."




(Story and clips from here.)

Yeah, let's just fucking do it.

No, not THAT.

And no, not "Fall in looooove!"  Though I do highly recommend the Joan Jett cover of that particular song.  Look it up, it was used in the Tank Girl movie.

Let's just fucking talk about homophobia.

♥Ryland♥ broached this topic in his livejournal.  And I've been debating doing some kind of angry blogging recently, so there it is.  My angry homophobia blog:

HOMOPHOBIA IS STUPID.

Or, as Mr. Iero puts it:




I really wish that could be the end all, be all of my statement.  But really, I just don't get it.  Why the HELL are people afraid of who someone else may or may not be fucking?  People, I don't see it and I'm fucking AFRAID OF BALLOONS.

No, really.  I have issues with balloons.  Like, fucking terrified of them.  They actually cause me to have panic attacks.  So you know what I do?

I don't go places there are balloons.  Or, if I do, I deal with it.  Or leave.  Because they make me uncomfortable.

So, okay, you DON'T like the idea of two men kissing.  Odds are, it probably doesn't even get you as bad as balloons get me (fucking inflatable bastards).  So here's an idea.

Don't watch them kiss.  Or, if you're uncomfortable with it?  Leave. 

I really wish I could make everyone okay with the idea that yes, same sex couples are going to exist and be affectionate.  But I can't.  Because people are inherently dumb, apparently.  So instead, I'll understand that you have different levels of tolerance than I do.  And so, you don't want to tolerate it. 

Guess what?  That's your problem.  Not mine.  Not another person's.  Certainly not that couples.

You don't like homosexuality?  You don't want to see it?

Look somewhere else.

Because, really folks, what the fuck else are you GOING to do?  You can't change who a person is in love with, or who they're attracted to.  It's not POSSIBLE.  Deal with it.  Some men are going to like men, some girls are going to like girls, and in the end you have to live with that fact.  Yes, yes, you do have to live with that fact.

Because you can't change it.  It's not within your power to do so.

Churches can condemn it, that's their call.  That's part of their faith and how they choose to do things.  Do I think it's wrong?  Hell yes.  Can I do anything about it?  Not really.

You can try scared straight programs, you can use social tactics, you can do whatever you want.  You can't make people stop being gay. 

And I can't make people stop liking balloons.

DEAL WITH IT.

And please don't tell me about how the Bible condemns homosexuality.  That's YOUR faith and YOUR interpretation of a passage.  Not all of us follow the Bible as holy writ.  Even scholars argue about the validity of the anti-homosexuality statements.  And as has been brought up, there is no record of JESUS condemning it.  Don't you think if God were really worried about where people were sticking it, he would have made sure his son/his avatar on earth would go around smacking homos down? 

Plus, my branch of the Church of Hot Addiction condemns balloons.  They're tacky.

So, I love things.

Right now, I love Panic at the Disco's Pretty.  Odd.  Because the music is amazing.

I also constantly have love for Penny Arcade. 

So, after being inspired by the Penny Arcade Remix project, I began to produce these:

Penny! at the Arcade:

(note: to actually read them, right click and go to "View Image" for full size)









More to come, eventually.  I've got plans for "That Green Gentleman" and "Nine in the Afternoon."

So, if "A Fever You Can't Sweat Out" was represented by a hyper sexualized circus, then I think that "Pretty.  Odd." is characterized by a U.S. Depression Era carnival in the Dust Bowl. 




It's more than that, obviously, since the sophomore effort concentrates on borrowing from what is by now a well-documented list of artists.  But it does more than that.  It's a philosophy that I'm about to go into.  It might make your head hurt.  It makes MY head hurt.  And no, I did not write this after eating any of Panic's "special brownies."

Sadly.

Anyway, the Victorian Era Sexual Circus feel was for an album that was about proving yourself.  Excess.  It was about an over the top effort in order to get yourself noticed.  Panic's first album was by far a commercial success.  But the band has indicated they didn't think it was an artistic success.  And that makes sense, the album was about showmanship, and while some substance came through it wasn't enough.  "Fever" was a pop album.  Plain and simple.  It got noticed, it was music you could listen to and enjoy.  But it was, in the end, an album put together by a group of very talented teenage musicians.

The Depression Era Carnival is about something else.  It's a hopeful album, it's music reflecting hard work that is worth it, it pays off.  More than that, it becomes a team effort (all of the band members contribute backing vocals, with Ryan Ross taking lead vocals in more than a few places, which automatically for me makes this a better album...Ross's voice is one of many secrets Panic has apparently been hiding from us this whole time), it means that these four men didn't just grow as individuals.  They grew together and they grew into a band.  They're no longer compartmentalized, it's not a regimented divide of who does what.  It's now that they blend together, they have actually become a single entity, an actual band, rather than four boys on stage with instruments.




There's also a feel to this album that they ENJOYED making it.  There was a stiff pretentiousness to "Fever" that felt like the album was made to be ART.  It was SUBSTANTIAL.  This music was SERIOUS BUSINESS.

However, "Pretty.  Odd." has music that is just...fun.  There's a feeling of giggly joy to it.  It's a summer album, the sort of thing you put on when the sun is shining and you want to feel GOOD.  And in that relaxed, joyous feeling?  The boys have made stronger music.  While that also deals with the age and experience difference, the fact is that once they stopped trying to prove themselves as artists?  They've made an album that proves them as artists.




So, everyone needs to listen to this album.  All of you.  Older Panic fans who have been eagerly awaiting the new album will not be disappointed with what they have waited for.  Panic fans who were skeptical of the new sound should listen to have their fears allayed, the band still sounds strong...and as I mentioned before, there's the added bonus of Ryan Ross's voice.  Music snobs who claimed Panic was just a bunch of pretty boys should listen to see where the musical chops of those "pretty boys" lies.  People who wrote Panic off based on the singles from Fever should listen to see how completely and utterly DIFFERENT it is.  And people who never gave a damn about Panic in the first place should listen just for a good fucking album.

"Pretty.  Odd." releases on March 25th.

I know people have been asking about the Ryan Ross only version of "Beyond the Sea."




So here it is:



What do you think?  Better or worse than the "real" version?

So, Panic at the Disco has leaked their new album "Pretty.  Odd." on MTV.com.

Go!  Listen!  And discuss your thoughts!  DON'T LET ME SQUEAL ALONE!



...or you could get it elsewhere.  But consider the legality of such things.

(please note: I only endorse the downloading of this album if you are planning to buy it anyway.  But if MTV's crappy site construction is getting in your way, more power to you!)

So last night, I journeyed out to $5 movie night at the South Side Works to see "The Other Boleyn Girl."  For those of you that know, I got my certificate in Medieval and Renaissance studies in college, though my focus was more on Elizabeth I's reign than Henry VIII.  But my friend Gwen is a HUGE history buff (her goal in life is to be Indiana Jones. There's a whole story, I'll tell it at the end because it amuses me...) who knows a ton about Henry VIII's reign and can recite, at will, the exact procession of Henry's wives.

SO, we go to see this movie.  And it's...good?  I guess?  I mean, it wasn't BAD.  It was very pretty.  And Natalie Portman is AMAZING, but that's to be expected.  It's Natalie fucking Portman.  And Eric Bana?  Well, after I got over the urge to yell "HENRY SMASH INFERTILE WIFE!" very loudly during most of his scenes, I was good.

But Scarlett Johansson?  Can we talk, sweetie?

You're gorgeous.  You are a gorgeous woman and you're very outspoken and come off as fairly intelligent from what I've seen.  But there are a lot of things you are not.

One of them is a serious actress.

Don't get me wrong.  She's an actress.  But you have levels of actress.  One of those contains women like Maggie Smith and Helen Mirren.  That's the top fucking tier and is where Natalie Portman belongs and will eventually reign supreme over us all.  There are lower tiers, not so much saying that these women can't make enjoyable  movies, but that they do not raise acting to the level of a fucking art form.  ScarJo falls into the tier of "action heroines."

Scarlett could be an excellent action heroine.  She can point the gun at people and look serious and give that sort of smug "I told you so," look to the hero.  Basically, ScarJo SHOULD BE PLAYING THE PARTS THEY GIVE TO JESSICA ALBA.

Jessica Alba?  Should...um...okay, I just don't like her. 

So the general rule of actress displacement is as follows:

Natalie Portman should be playing the serious roles that Scarlett Johansson plays (unless they are in the same movie, then it gets tricky)
Scarlett Johansson should be playing the action roles that Jessica Alba plays (meaning she'd be The Invisible Woman and there might be some redeeming quality to the Fantastic Four films)
Jessica Alba, magnum to the head, thank you grandpa (to quote Eddie Izzard).

Here's a helpful chart:



And that's the end of that chapter!

(So, the story with Gwen is she wants to be Indiana Jones.  To the point that she's majoring in history with a concentration in Early Christianity.  Like, we went to see Jumper on Sunday night and when the Indy 4 trailer started, she literally leaned forward and grabbed my ankle hard enough to bruise, because you could see Karen Allen.  We are threatening to dress up as Marion and Indy for opening night in Pittsburgh, since she has high waisted pants and I have an Indy hat.  This would also serve to completely confuse a few of our friends who are convinced Gwen and I have slept together.

But, anyway, she only wants to do the "This is the ancient blah blah and it does blah blah," parts, while her friend is going to do the whip cracking and gun shooting bits.  You can compare this to Rick and Evie from The Mummy, but do so in her presence and prepare to die a painful and bloody death.  Because no, it's nothing like The Mummy, why are you so stupid?

And I am going to be the friend who follows them around going "WE ARE ALL GOING TO DIE!" and then trips and falls against a wall and finds the hidden chamber that contains the ancient blah blah that does blah blah.)

Random: In the latest Buffy comic they made her a lesbian.
Me: No, they didn't.  She experimented with another Slayer.  She's bi-curious.  And that's how Whedon writes most of his characters. He's even flat out said that Angel and Spike have fucked.
Random: Oh.  Okay.
Me: Besides, it could be worse.  It could be Frank Miller writing it.




Presenting:


(scene: external city at night.  We're in a bad section of town, it's dark and dreary, lit by neon signs and the flash of cigarettes in the darkness.  We see panels of men and women shuffling around, obviously engaging in activies not meant to be seen by the light of day. This is the real world, this is harsh, cruel reality.

And there are so many whores.)

(scene: Alleyway.  We see a close up of a pair of perfect, firm breasts behind a tight tank top.  The cleavage is nicely sized and her chest is clearly heaving.  We focuse on the breasts for a good long time.)

V.O.: Welcome to Sunnydale.  It's the sort of city that puts hair on a man's chest and puts a woman where she really ought to be.

(pan back to show the goregous titties belong to a young blonde woman.  Her ensemble is topped off with a miniskirt and a pair of knee high boots.  This is BUFFY.  She is on her knees in front of a man, obviously a customer.)



Buffy: (V.O.) My name's Buffy.  Most of the time I'm walking the streets here.  It's a living, I guess.  Wont' say I enjoy it.  Just something I have to do.  You know what they say, gotta use what you've got.

(BUFFY pulls off of the man and wipes her mouth with the back of her hand)

Customer: Hey!  I paid to come in your mouth!  Gimme what I paid for!

(BUFFY stands, reaching into her cleavage to pull out a wad of bills.)

Customer: HEY!  I'm talking to you!

(BUFFY glares at him, and quickly pulls a wooden stake from between those luscious melons.  She lunges forward, thrusting the stake into the vampire's heart.  The vampire quickly turns to dust.)

Buffy: Ugh.  All over my new boots.
(V.O.) Oh.  I forgot to mention.  I slay vampires.

(cut to: Bronze Interior, a few hours later.  The Bronze is a seedy bar where gorgeous women hang around with the sort of men who drink a whiskey for breakfast and then again for lunch.  There are women dancing around poles at either end of the bar, one of them a lean red head with boobs to kill for.  She twirls around the pole, then quickly rearranges herself to hang upside down, taunting the salivating men watching her.)

(Buffy enters, hands in the pockets of her leather jacket.)

Buffy: (V.O.) The Bronze.  Can't say I like it much.  Too many familiar faces for me.  I've seen most of these guys writhing under me, begging me to beat them, flog them, get them off no matter how.  Pain kinks, humiliation kinks, they all get their fix from  me.  Not that I'm complaining.  You never know what a man's really like until you've tied him down and...
(Buffy looks up at the red head on the pole and smiles)
...well, you don't want to hear the rest of this story.

(Buffy sits down near the pole and pulls out her wad of cash.  She takes a few singles and offers them to the stripper, who dances towards her, does a split and looks at Buffy expectantly)



Buffy: (V.O.) That's Willow.  Nah, really, that's her real name.  It's like her folks wanted her to end up like this, dancing for a bunch of drunks and getting them all worked up.  They want her.

(Buffy puts the singles into her mouth, holding them between her teeth.  Willow leans over, presses their mouths together, and comes away with the money, smirking)

Buffy: (V.O.) But I get to take her home.

(Buffy turns to the bar to see a man of the highest manliness possible.  This man is XANDER and he is a REAL man.  He is such a man that he doesn't even like to touch other men. No, what Xander wants is titties.  Nice, firm, feminine titties.  And other girl parts.  He wants to feel them between his nimble fingers, let them lick his perfectly sculpted chest, feel them run their tongues along his cupid's bow lips in anticipation of sucking off his magnificent cock. 
Yes, there is no doubting. Xander is a man's man and no lover of boys.)



Buffy: I need a drink.

Xander: Got ID?

(Buffy leans over and shows Xander the view down her shirt.  We get an extended view.)

Buffy: How's that?

Xander: (snorts) Nothing I haven't seen before, darling.

(Xander takes pity on the poor whore and pours her a drink.  He's such a giving soul, people sometimes don't understand his gruff exterior is really covering up the insecurities within.  Not that he has any of those sexually.  He knows he likes girls.  No, women.  Real women.  With boobs.)

TO BE CONTINUED?

So occasionally you have those moments where you get the feeling of "HOLY SHIT!  MY LIFE'S A MOVIE!"

Well, maybe you don't.  But I do.

Anyway, I lean towards my life being one of two genres: action or suspense/thriller.  Okay, and sci-fi gets in there too.  Horror...actual horror.  Not tits-and-gore.

Which is all well and good.  But sometimes I get pulled into the casts of my friend's movies.

And sometimes that means I'm caught as the sidekick in a romantic comedy.

That's when I start screaming.


I demand a recasting or I walk!

Look, I'll level with you.  For the most part, I hate romantic comedies.  To me they are some of the most insipid, mindless, moronic films made.  Actually, I think if you ever had a romantic comedy directed by Uwe Boll, it would end up being the worst movie in the history of film.  Possibly worse than Manos: The Hand of Fate.

My issue with romantic comedies is that the idea is always the same: a girl NEEDS to find a man so her life is COMPLETE and then she MEETS one and there's WACKY ADVENTURES and in the end she LEARNS SOMETHING about herself.

Or, the ever popular variation: girl doesn't WANT to fall in love but DOES ANYWAY and then she needs to learn to LET LOVE INTO HER LIFE because that's what YOU DO.

UGH.

Overall, it's the idea that the most important thing a woman can do with her life is to find a man after having wacky adventures.  And that even the most intelligent woman becomes a total moron ditz when presented with a man.  And that men are all either THE ONE or NOT THE ONE. 

UUUUUGH.

Recently, I've been caught in the orbit of a friend who's life is, as she describes it, a Cameron Diaz movie.  And she's trying to get out of it.  Because that's not the movie she wants to be in. 




And frankly, I have no desire to play the back up friend in a rom-com if for no other reason than the fact that if that's true?  I CAN'T BE PLAYED BY MICHELLE RODRIGUEZ.




Okay, so I'm also not Latina and gorgeous.  But still, you get the idea.

And the worst part is, we've got another friend who seems to be cooking up all the rom-com schemes to help "Cameron" get over her current ex that she's still into.    And yeah, I don't think they should get back together, but I don't think getting her another man or making her choose between her friends and her boyfriend are the right answers.

So while my one friend frets over her ex and the other friend tries to play matchmaker while finding love herself, I'm wondering why the HELL my life can't be a little less "The Wedding Planner" and a little more "Blue Crush."

Because really, I'd take a mediocre chick surfing flick over a mediocre "MUST FIND LOVE NOW OMG" film.  Yeah, there's the meeting of a guy along the way, but hey.  At least Kate Bosworth gets to surf circles around her boyfriend in that one.

So, a friend of mine linked to this article.  Unfortunately, we are the sort of people who see the name "Frank" and immediately think of Frank Iero.  So the line "His name is Frank, and he is a psychopath" was hysterical to us.

And then we started making macros.

(These are only mine, btw.)







And now, Buzznet, I demand that you make me a "his name is Frank and he's a psychopath" macro using any image of Frank Iero you should choose.  Then post it in the comments here, or link me to it.  Because it's Wednesday and I want to be amused!

So last night, I'm hanging around in this fan community for FBR bands and their ilk, and someone posts a chunk of my fake review of Ashlee Simpson's Bittersweet World.  Thinking it was real.




I then asked where they got it from.  And apparently, it had been linked through a Panic at the Disco community because of my joke about Brendon Urie appearing on the album.  Which I thought was funny.  It all traced back to a review at Theneptunes.org that quoted and linked my original blog.

I quickly posted to correct the situation.

Then, I figured, hey, why not google one of my fake track titles and see what happens?  So, I ended up searching for "Pass the Hash Pipe" and "Brendon Urie."

...and then I proceeded to go hide in a blanket fort.

Apparently this has shown up on several communities as supposedly the real track listing.

I would like to reiterate for everyone out there:

• This track listing is fake.  I have not yet heard the album.
• It was meant to be a parody of Maxim's recent mess with the fake review of a Black Crowes CD.
• If anyone of any importance comes across the review, I hope you find it funny.  If not, I apologize and would be totally willing to give an ACTUAL review of the album to make up for it.
  
• I DID call Patrick Stump a "tiny little sex god" and I'm aware associates of Mr. Stump's may read ONTD, and because of this may come across the original review.  I would like to make it clear that I have NO WAY of knowing about Mr. Stump's sexual prowess. 
• If this makes me e-famous or scene famous?  I demand Brendon Urie show up in pirate garb to grope my boobs.  I've had my buzzmaker badge for months and I'm still waiting >:(

And I'm really surprised anyone thought that was real.

I see it happen anytime a celebrity couple announces they're getting married.  Or that they have gotten married.

The general first reactions are "OMG CONGRATULATIONS!"  Or raging jealousy.

And of course, the inevitable: "OMG THEY'RE GONNA MAKE SUCH PRETTY BABIES!"




Let's talk about where babies come from, shall we?  Babies come from sex.  Which does not necessarily only happen after marriage.

I guess what I'm throwing out here is?  Marriage does not imply babies.  And the attitude that it does bothers me on a lot of levels.

It's different when it's a couple who have indicated they want children.  I'm attending two weddings for people my own age this year.  One couple plans to get married and have babies.  The other plans to get married and NOT have babies.  And I'm sure there are people out there who want kids but might not necessarily want to get married.  And if you can support your child or children without a wedding ring on your finger?  More power to you.  That's your choice.

But when it's a couple who haven't indicated that their plans include children?  Especially when the woman in the couple has a blossoming career?  It kinda irks me that people expect she'd drop it immediately after saying "I do," so she could have a kid.  And yeah, I'm pretty much directly referencing Gerard and Lyn-Z Way.

Do I think they'd have gorgeous children if they choose to?  FUCK YES.  They're both really really really ridiculously good looking people.  But at the same time, consider that MSI and MCR are both touring bands.  They're RARELY off the road.  I think since getting married, Gee and Lyn-Z have had MAYBE a cumulative month and a half to two months together in their home.  And if Lyn and Gee were to have gone OMG, MARRIED!  BABIES NOW!?  He can keep touring if he wants.  She puts everything on hold.  And if she chooses to?  Great.


If they do have a child, you'll know it's theirs because it'll have "DO NOT EAT" written on it in Sharpie.

But the assumption that she'd choose too just because there's a wedding ring on her finger now?  Not cool.  Or that he'd choose to have kids just because he's got a wife now?  Also not cool.

I guess my other problem with the whole marriage ---> babies deals with the debate over marriage for same sex couples.  If we as a society immediately associate marriage with babies?  Then that sort of implies that homosexual couples have no real reason to get married.  They're not having babies together, right? I mean, yes, they can with a surrogate or if they choose to adopt.  But really, if we assume that the purpose of a husband and wife is to have a child, then where does that leave a husband and a husband or a wife and a wife?

And does that mean we should look down on homosexual couples who choose to use a surrogate or to adopt because legally they might not be able to get married in a state?  They're having a child "out of wedlock" as it were.  But at the same time, they're going to be loving parents...whether they're married or not.

I'm child-free.  I have no plans in my future that involve having children.  That's my choice.  But I would like to get married some day.  Just, you know, for the hell of it.  And what I don't want is people on my wedding day coming up to me and saying "Congrats!  Your children will be gorgeous!"

My children will be gorgeous.  If you consider completely imaginary, made up things in the heads of my mother's side of the family gorgeous. 

Which I'm sure they all do.


Please note: this is totally my opinion and as I've said, I respect people who choose to have children as much as I ask them to respect my choice to remain child-free.  There's no right or wrong choice here, folks.  Just yours.

Frank Iero has tied the knot with long-time girlfriend Jamia Nestor.



CONGRATULATIONS FRANK AND JAMIA!  Much love and luck to you both!!!!

So, long story short, I ended up in a discussion yesterday that involved recasting "The Little Mermaid" with guys from bands.  And Gerard Way was cast as Ursula, the Sea Witch.

PLEASE do not ask.  Your mental health is more important than the explanation to this.

Anyway, that whole thing led to me deciding what the world REALLY needs now, more than anything, is My Chemical Romance covering "Poor Unfortunate Souls." 

Why?

Because of this.

And this:



But I digress.

This led to me getting a hold of the music from "Mosh Pit on the Mouse," which was a Japanese Exclusive...which explains a few things about it.

Anyway, I listened to the cd and...really?  I would not mosh to a single song on there.

It's not like all the songs are BAD.  Reel Big Fish did a great cover of "It's Not Easy" from "Pete's Dragon" and Brian Setzer did a fantastic job covering "Everybody Wants to be a Cat" even if he didn't touch the sped up part at the end.

But all in all?  These are not songs I would mosh to.  Nor would I mosh to the efforts by Smashmouth (HAS ANYONE EVER MOSHED TO SMASHMOUTH?) or any of the J-rock artists featured on the cd (though "Doping Panda" may be the BEST band name EVER).

Also, can I say something else?  You cannot claim "Heartbreak Hotel" is a Disney cover.  It is an ELVIS SONG.  Yes, it appeared in Lilo and Stitch.  NO, it is not a "Disney" song.  It's cheating, Disney.

I guess what I was expecting was something a little more like the soundtrack to Tony Hawk's American Wasteland, with artists like Taking Back Sunday, Fall Out Boy, Alkaline Trio, Dropkick Murphy's and My Chemical Romance.  But I was denied.

So instead, I made a poll.  Because that's what I do.

So this morning I read this post in Travis McCoy's public blog on the internet.

And though he'll never read this blog or see it, I wanted to wish him so much good will in this endeavor and salute him for what he's doing for himself.  More than that, I'm amazed and proud that he's talking about his issues openly and intimately like this.

A lot of celebrities hide from their issues...or at least hide their issues from the public.  And that's FINE, that's their choice.  My only problem is when celebrities completely deny they have problems, there's a difference between refusing to talk about something because it's a private matter and flat out saying "I don't have a problem."  But when someone like Travis openly posts a blog saying "Yes, I have been fucked up.  Yes, I am getting clean.  I'm scared and at the same time I feel better every day," it really does something big.  It opens up that it's okay to be fucked up and it's okay to get help. 

It's part of why, no matter how much Pete Wentz might make me roll my eyes sometimes, I respect him for openly discussing his mental illness and his overdose incident.  Because when he does, he encourages people to get help.  He doesn't glorify these problems, he doesn't brag about them  And you might think that sounds ridiculous, but I've seen other writers (and Pete above everything for me is a writer and businessman) glorify depression and dependency on alcohol and drugs.  For a long time I thought that, to be a real writer, I had to do the same thing.  I think a lot of young writers are exposed to that sort of ideal and think that they have to have an addiction or a problem in order to be effective, and if they get help, they're not going to be REAL anymore.  Or maybe that's just me and my issues with being the most self-conscious bitch on the planet.  Who knows?

Not saying that recreational usage of alcohol is a bad thing.  That's your call.  Hell, I still drink on a semi-regular basis.  As for recreational drugs?  I know people who use weed and 'shrooms in controlled amounts.  It's their call, their choice, their party.  I just choose not to attend.  I don't excuse harder drug use, because there's a point where you can't stop.  But that's another rant entirely.

The point is, I know how much seeing other talk about their issues can help people.  I know how being told you're not alone in that situation can make the weight on your shoulders a little lighter.  And I also know how SHARING THAT with people can do the same thing.  You've come clean, you've told people "this is my problem."  And the thing about celebrities is they're just like us.  So maybe what they want to see is other people saying "Yeah, I've been there.  It's cool.  You'll get through it. We're here for you."

And Travis?  Thanks for this little line:


So, yeah.  Thanks, Travie.  You really are a big deal.

So, in case you haven't heard yet, during his talk at the School of Visual Arts in New York, Gerard Way mentioned that his secret talent is that he can tie a cherry stem into a knot with his tongue.


No, Gerard, that's a mike.  Not a cherry.  Nice try, though.

So what is it that makes Gerard's tongue so amazing?  Is there some strange science to it?



Okay, so as tongues go it's a little bigger than average.  Maybe a little wider.

So, let's compare Gerard's tongue with the tongue of another person who can do the cherry stem trick:



Hmmm...unfortunately, my keen scientific mind has not yet found any way to connect these two tongues.

And that fact pisses me off more than you will ever know.

In short, Gerard Way's tongue is a magical muscle that makes music with My Chemical Romance.  Try saying that three times fast!

So, yesterday I did my extra gleeful concert write up.  Because I was extra gleeful.

But now I'd like to talk about something that simply boggled my mind at the Cobra show Wednesday night.

The concert was amazing.  People were jumping and screaming and while we were all crammed together, we were for the most part all there to have fun (I discount the parents who got dragged along...and who apparently weren't aware of Cobra's lyrics or subject matter.  At least they didn't sing "It's Warmer in the Basement?"...actually, now I wish they HAD!).  And yet, everywhere I turned there were people wandering around with these pissed off scowls on their faces.  People looking, as much as I hate to use this word, EMO.

Dude, scowling?  At a fucking COBRA show?  That's like a bear driving a car: HOW CAN THIS BE?

If there's anything Cobra stands for it's having fun.  Just letting go and dancing and jumping.  So I didn't totally understand how people could be pushing, shoving, elbowing me in the tit, and doing it all looking utterly disaffected and like they didn't CARE if they were there or not.

And I'm worried that's just the natural state of things for people.  That's the status quo.  And I know it's cool to not care, but really, not caring when there's somebody on stage who specifically came to make you dance tonight?  Just give in and have a good fucking time, okay?  Stop glaring, stop worrying about being cool.  Throw your fangs up and get down.  Get over yourselves for a few hours at least.

And remember what Gabe has been charged by the Cobra to do, folks.  To make sure mankind goes out in style:

"By teaching hipsters to not take themselves so seriously and by telling emo kids to stop being pussies. How's that for a start?"

So, I have officially decided that from now on, I will be listing my religion as "Church of Hot Addiction."  Because yesterday may as well have been a fucking religious experience.

Long story short, found out there was going to be a Meet and Greet pre-show at a store in the South Side.  Got there like an hour and a half early and met up with Vanessa (hollow1005) in her sweet, sweet red pants.  We waited in line, giddier than most of the teenagers there, and kept waiting for the band to appear (sidebar: there was this really tall guy who worked for the store who we kept thinking was Gabe and got all excited).  Finally they did and HOLY SHIT are they amazing.

They were giving out posters and signing them, sadly I have no picture or scan of mine, but the whole thing funneled through with Alex and Nate first (who I stupidly had nothing to say to...I didn't want to be like "WHY'D YOU KILL GABE'S GOLDFISH!?" to Nate) (and on that note: Here's that video I was talking about, Vanessa!).  Then to Victoria who is FUCKING GORGEOUS in real life and I didn't want to yell "HI, I'D DO YOU!" because I don't know if she'd appreciate that.

And then we came to Ryland.  Who I shall henceforth refer to only as ♥ Ryland ♥ .

"Hi!" I said, "I'm the girl who's been messaging you on Facebook."

"I don't have a Facebook."

"Oh, sorry, Guy Ripley's Facebook."

"He doesn't have one either."

"Oh...well, now I look like an ass!"

"Why, what'd they promise you?  Maybe I can help."

O_O "They didn't promise anything!  Sorry!  They were very compelling!"

And then...GABE.

GABE SHOOK MY HAND.  AND SAID "Hi, I'm Gabe."

And I said "I want to lick your nipples!"

Okay, not REALLY.  I said "I'm Ashly."

He asked me for the spelling and we said goodbye and so ended our tryst.

Anyway, Vanessa and I walked around for a bit, not wanting to get in line yet, and ended up in a convenience store behind a roadie from The Cab and then, as we were walking around again, we noticed people crowded around the entrance to the Meet and Greet store again.  "Huh," I said, "there must have been a rush DEAR GOD THAT'S VICTORIA!"

Victoria was outside getting pictures.

AND THEN WE SAW ♥ RYLAND ♥

He turned to head for the venue and I said, quickly "Ryland, anyway I can get a quick picture with you?  I understand if you have to go..."

"No!  No!  Here, come on!"

AND HE PUT HIS ARM AROUND ME AND THIS HAPPENED:



HIS ARM IS AROUND ME!  AND WHEN HE PULLED IT BACK HE KINDA PATTED/RUBBED MY BACK.

HIS ARM.  IS.  AROUND ME.

So, I'm going to say this now: We're running away and getting married.  He just doesn't know it yet.  I think I'll let it be the big surprise for after the cholorform wears off.

Then Vanessa got a picture with him.  And we started walking to the venue.

And he was right in front of us.

So Vanessa got some video.

Yeah.  YEAH.

Then we waited around for her friend Clint to show up, and as we did, we realized we were about two feet from The Cab's van (the new one, since the old one crashed :( ).  And then I ended up inside the venue as Vanessa waited for Clint some more.

I missed the first part of The Cab's set, which kinda sucked, but the last half was AMAZING!  Seriously, people, I mean it when I say you NEED to be listening to these guys.  If there's any justice in the world, they are going to be HUGE.



After the set, I got to meet Singer Alex (the one on his knees, DAMN does that boy have stage prescence!) and I told him I liked the band and hoped it worked out for them.  He shook my hand (!) and introduced himself and it was great.  Just fucking great.

We The Kings were awesome.  I hadn't heard anything by them before, but I liked what I heard live.

Metro Station I could take or leave.  Though the guitarist is very...exuberant, to say the least.

And then Cobra.

OH COBRA!

I can't totally put my glee into words, so here's the run down:

• Sweaty ♥ Ryland ♥ is three million kinds of hot.
• Gabe is AMAZING live.
• I danced and jumped and screamed so hard that today my legs hurt and my voice is SHOT.
• During "My Moves Are White (White Hot, That Is)" Gabe changed the line to "Girl, I'm gonna make you WET!" and I think Vanessa and I were two of the only people that GOT the line, but that's okay because DAMN, GABE!  JUST DAMN!
• Someone from the balcony threw one of the light necklaces they're selling at shows at Gabe and he caught it around his wrist and, mid banter, stopped and said "Yeah, I caught that shit!  I can do like five things at once and still catch this shit!"
  
• The room went fucking NUTS for SOAP and Church of Hot Addiction.

I WOULD DO THIS SHOW AGAIN IN AN INSTANT, HOLY FUCK!  Amazing!  Just AMAZING!

I just need to come up with a good excuse for next time!

I wanna thank my friend Rachel once again, 'cause she helped so much with hooking me up with a ticket and letting me pay her back.  I had an amazing time and I really REALLY thank her for helping facilitate it!

I also wanna thank Vanessa for being my Cobra buddy and hanging out with me!  I had such an awesome time and it was just...wow.  Thank you for acting like a 14-year-old on too much sugar with me! :D

So, yeah, apparently Cobra Starship is doing a meet and greet today at Decade as well as putting on a concert at Diesel tonight.

I'll be at both!  Hope to see you there!

(Oh God, that totally sounded like some sort of celebrity "tee-hee!  come say hi and stuff!"  Guys, I'm sorry!  Really!  I don't mean it like that!  UGH!  I SUCK AT THIS!)

Okay, um, if you see me, say "Hi" 'cause I'll be there alone and this is really my first big deal concert ever.  I'm a loser.  But anyway, yeah.  I'll be the self-conscious one with the large ass.

I like this band:


I also like this band:


I like these bands, too:









I know not everybody likes these bands.

I know some people may like one or two of them, but have no use for the rest.

So, here's the point:
Sometimes, I'll make say, a poll, that includes these bands, and it turns into people ranting about how some bands are better than others or they hate one band or something like that.

Folks?  In a poll that's clearly meant to be fun, let's try talking about stuff we LIKE.  See, instead of typing "OMG!  I HATE MCR THEY REALLY SUCK AND SOLD OUT!" you can instead type "OH, HAI, FALL OUT BOY!  I LOVE THOSE GUYS!"

Or instead of "LOL COBRA IS SUCH A JOKE!" you can type "OOOOH!  I CAN'T WAIT FOR THE NEW MCR CD!"

Here's an interesting idea: if you can't type anything nice, GO CUT YOUR MOTHERFUCKING HAND OFF WITH A MEAT CLEAVER AND THEN TRY TO REPLY TO ONE OF MY FUCKING POLLS AGAIN, OKAY?

Any complaints to this suggestion can be posted here.

So, earlier today, to make up for sending me links to the scary fetish Birdo costume (warning: clicking that link may be more hazardous to your mental health than clicking this one) my friend Zen sent me links to new screen shots from Soul Calibur 4.

Now, I have a longtime love affair with the Soul Edge/Soul Calibur series.  And for years I have abused Seung Mina and Kilik's ranged attacks.  When Seung Mina lost a lot of her flow in 2 or 3, I started using Kilik almost exclusively and while I'm not exactly a pro, I can beat you with a stick pretty rapidly.

But see, here's my issue.

In Soul Calibur 4?  Kilik WEARS A SHIRT.

No, really.  Here's Soul Calibur 2:



Mmmmm...chesty.

Soul Calibur 3:

Okay, your cool ass jacket is gone, but I can live with this.

Now, Soul Calibur 4:

WHAT THE HELL?!  YOU'RE CLOTHED!

All joking about Kilik's attire aside, the screenshots look sweet.  Especially the new Lizard Man design. And they've already confirmed Seung Mina, Maxi and Yung-seong as returning characters.

Plus, as always, there's going to be a few special guests.

Click HERE to see and hear confirmation from the MCR frontman that he is expecting his first child with wife Lyn-Z of Mindless Self Indulgence.  (Note: Any comments made from people who have clearly not watched the video will be deleted.  I seriously think watching it will make you think differently about gut reactions to celebrity baby rumors).



Then click HERE to read more on the situation!

NO, REALLY, PLEASE WATCH THE VIDEO BEFORE COMMENTING.  IT'S VERY IMPORTANT THAT YOU DO SO, SO YOU UNDERSTAND THE SITUATION ENTIRELY!