Tag Archives: hollywood

What? Wednesday- Are You Trying to Disrupt the Space/Time Continuum?!

27 Jul

Is that $3000 2011 American Dollars or $3000 Little House on the Prairie American Dollars?

Listen up, Greg.  Time travel is no joke.  I have a special place in my a-hole-ish Flux Capicitor-shaped heart for Doc Brown that pumps 1.21 gigawatts of blood through it everyday which means I take the space/time continuum very, very seriously.  I don’t think Marty McFly would appreciate you sending some possible reefer addict to the past and ruining the Enchantment Under the Sea Dance.   

Also, what’s up with the sexism? 

My advice?  Make the inaugural time travel trip yourself, find your past self, work together to get your present self laid, therefore ensuring that your future self won’t be such a  douche bag.


Someone Owes Me a Refund.

7 Mar

I had a list of things I needed to get done this weekend.  But, since I started to feel like ass the minute I walked into my house after work on Friday, I didn’t get anything done.  Instead, I spent the weekend on my couch half-drunk on Nyquil with a headache that made my eyes feel like they were bugging out.

Gross, but exactly how I felt.

Also, guess what!  My cable wasn’t working, again.  In fact, my cable hasn’t worked consistently for the four months I’ve had it.   Every month, when I pay the bill, just before I click “submit”, I go on a bitchy tirade about how I can’t believe I’m paying for this service, and how I would call the cable company and bitch if it didn’t mean sacrificing HOURS trying to get a hold of a REAL LIVE PERSON!  I’ve gone so far as to choosing  “el numero dos para servicio en espanol”, but was transferred to English automated hell when, in my blinding rage, I ended up speaking Spanglish.  Thank God for Netflix.

Unfortunately, the last two seasons of The Tudors (awesome) are not yet available for streaming on Netflix so I ended up wasting an hour and a half of my life on a really bad movie.  I feel it’s my duty to warn you that Unthinkable is a shitty movie, with an ending that is unthinkably shitty.  The movie itself wasn’t great, but it’s the ending I find offensive.

I’m taking the position that I must be the first person in the world who has seen this stinking pile-o-shit movie, because surely had someone seen it before, they would have warned me of its shittiness. This movie ended so badly and so abruptly that I actually dragged myself off the couch in a Nyquil-fueled haze and checked my internet connection.  Maybe someone had accidentally unplugged the TV?  I waited patiently through the closing credits thinking certainly the movie would pick up after the last credit rolled.  Nope.  Nothing.

The way I see it, Netflix, my cable company, Carrie Ann Moss, Samuel L. Jackson, the “Movies you would like” suggestion people, and the makers of Nyquil all owe me a refund, and letter of apology for the hour and a half of my life I will never get back.  As an alternative, I would settle for Netflix, my cable company, Carrie Ann Moss, Samuel L. Jackson, the “Movies you would like” suggestion people, and the makers of Nyquil having to sit through this movie.

Yeah, I didn’t think so.  Please make the checks out to “DMTF”.  Thanks.


Bell Biv DeVoe

4 Mar

Dear Readers:

I’m finished crying about my poopy week.  It’s Friday!

Once again, thanks for checking in and reading what I had to say.  I feel very fortunate to have earned your time.

Thanks again.

Now you know,


P.S. Dawson is in Ke$ha’s new video for her song Blow.  I’m not making that up.

Wild Thing! You Make My Heart Sing.

2 Mar

This Charlie Sheen video screams What? Wednesday. 

Just Say No

My favorites:

2:07-  Chuck doesn’t remember the last time he used drugs.  I’m no Sheen-ious, but my guess would be, about 5 minutes ago.

2:31- “How I roll”  If he doesn’t slow his roll, he’s going to end up like Charlene, here:


4:19-  “Droopy-eyed armless children”.  Sounds like a bad trip.

I truly hope that Wild Thing seeks help soon.  Let’s not forget what happened to this chick:

Lindsay’s Vida Loca.

24 Feb

It seems like every young starlet in Hollywood eventually comes to a crossroads in her career.  She can take the boring, predictable, nicely paved road to an ivy league school where, during hiatus, she’ll star in some artsy indie film with a good soundtrack.  After graduation, she returns to Hollywood as a highly respected, educated, and worldly woman starring in the dark drama about a really skinny ballerina who slowly goes insane, and in the end turns into a  dinosaur bird.


She can take the crazy, cocaine-laced, panty-less, bisexual beaten path, where she can’t stay sober enough to finish a movie, and the only time she’s photographed during the day is when she has a court date.  The only movie she can get is one where she plays an out of control teenager with daddy issues earning a living on the stripper pole.

Been There

I feel for Lindsay Lohan because it seems like she never had someone who truly had her interests at heart.  The good news is that Lindsay’s raspy voice and “I don’t care if I’m in rehab, I’m going out to the club and drinking my alcohol out of a water bottle” attitude make me think she’s sort of badass. 

If she does go to jail, the cholas may be Lindsay’s only hope in avoiding becoming some big girl’s wife.  All she’ll have to do is perm her hair, paint on her eyebrows, heavily line her lips, and change her name to Lil’ Rooster (because of the red hair, duh).

Lil' Angel, Giggelz, Smiley, and Diablita

Viva la raza, homie.

Where The Gays At?

11 Feb

I often fantasize about finding myself  the perfect gay boyfriend.   The Will to my Grace.  The Stanford to my Carrie.  If I could choose my very own gay, it would be Randy Rainbow: 

Isn’t he fabulous?!  I love, love, love him! 

I picture the two of us walking arm-in-arm at the mall.  Randy would talk me into buying those $200 designer jeans I’ve had my eye on, the ones that make my butt look A. May. Zing.   Randy, that doll, would tell me to quit feeling so guilty, and remind me how incredibly round and delicious my butt looks in them.  He totally gets my obsession with the perfect ass

After shopping we would most likely head to the theater to catch the latest romantic comedy starring Kate Aniston Ryan McConaughey.  We would share a large popcorn (because we deserve it) and a large Diet Coke. 

After the movie I would comfort Randy as he cries on my shoulder over his ex-boyfriend.  Even though I couldn’t stand the guy, and Randy deserves waaaaay better, I hate to see my doll so upset, so I would cry with Randy as I remind  him how adorable, fashionable, sensitive, funny, and totally fabulous he is. 

While sipping coffees at the independently owned coffee shop we both love so much, we would hear “Wind Beneath My Wings” come on the radio.  After harmonizing to it beautifully and accepting a muffled round of applause we would part ways by almost kissing each other on each cheek (European style) and saying “Love you, doll!”

Oh Randy!  When will our worlds collide?!